


Furries, Among Other Lost Memories

by portrait_inayellowdress



Series: Yeah Guess Who Doesn't Know When to Stop [1]
Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: Amnesia, Australia (fuck yeah), Canon Rewrite, Friendship, Furries (sort of), Gen, General tomfoolery, Heist, High Intelligence Low Wisdom, Memory Loss, No actual furries in fic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Robbery, Set post Season 1 Episode 5, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2020-10-29 09:09:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 48
Words: 165,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20794175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/portrait_inayellowdress/pseuds/portrait_inayellowdress
Summary: Sometimes, all it takes to change the world is a thief with a heart of gold and penchant for red, her two best friends, and a refusal to back downSometimes, all it takes to start stealing the valuables of the Sydney Opera House is an amnesiac with strange dreams and even stranger waking words, his two best friends, and a failure to give up.And sometimes, one stupid idea is all it takes to link the two irrevocably.





	1. Gray, Resident Amnesiac

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gray has weird dreams. His friends don't really get it. Particularly considering they may be involved.

Gray hadn’t realised Toby had arrived until he was staring up at him. 

“Jesus, Gray, you look like shit. You good?”

“Wow, it’s nice to see you too, Toby.”

Gray was sitting on the edge of Sydney Harbour, absentmindedly swinging his legs over the water, waiting for the aforementioned to arrive. Matt usually came with him, but today she wasn’t there. Not that Gray was particularly fussed. She’d get here if she was here. He yawned, trying to click his brain back into some semblance of function, but all it gave him was an increased reminder of the pain in his temples. It had been a long morning, one of the ones that made him wish he’d liked coffee, but who was he kidding? Every morning for the past two weeks had been like that. Gray looked out over the water, maybe he should get a caffeine addiction...

Sydney Harbour was as sunny and crowded as it always was, sunlight bouncing off the water, the ever constant crowds that made up inner Sydney up and down the street. It was hot, but more so by proximity than heat. The ferries were pulling in and out, carrying people who were all caught up in the sea breeze and seagulls, tourists being ever vigilant of the possibility of bird shit within their vicinity. Gray almost wished he was rich enough to buy himself a boat, moor it up in Darling Harbour with all the other showy little yachts there, take it out on days like these, not think about the dreams or his memory or any of it, just sunlight and sea and seagull shit.

But he had to put up with those yacht owners enough to know that he’d rather jump onto a powerline than join their ranks. He just considered himself lucky that he rarely had to come into direct contact with them. 

Toby glided forward, blocking the sunlight briefly before standing beside him, looking out over the Harbour as well. Posture perfect, as always. He stands a little taller than he did when Gray had first met him, but the poise has always been there.

“Seriously mate,” Toby asked, looking down at him. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t been sleeping well. Been having weird dreams.” Gray’s elbows rested on his knees. Toby, even though he had no reason to need to, worked at the front bar, his want of financial independence had outweighed any logic. He’d grown taller since Gray had been gone, but he was still a little reedy, with sepia skin and messy curls, and he had changed in the years since Gray had last seen him. But that was to be expected, after all, that was necessary, after all, but when Gray’s last memory of him was when he was sixteen, looking at him at twenty-one was still a little jarring.

“Wait, are these the same-”

There were very loud, arhythmic footsteps behind them.

“Good afternoon, my favourite fucked memory friend,” A loud voice rang out, and Matt’s arrival was signified. “How are we on this fine, fine day?”

He turned just as Matt spun around and, with a flourish, leant against the low wall that began just next to where Gray was sitting. She grinned at him.

“What, don’t I get a good afternoon?” Toby asked, frowning.

“Toby, I literally saw you ten minutes ago. Stop being a baby,” Matt, against the wall, tilted her head back to catch the sunlight. 

She'd moved from Melbourne in order to pay her way through some higher education, would sneak out in between shows to hang out with Toby at the bar, and that was, probably, the extent of what Gray knew about her. Her skin was tanned in the way that implied she spent most of her childhood summers outside, but that she never actively sought to darken it (and she freckled under the sun, anyway, that was obvious). Gray watched her absentmindedly as she fixed it her hair, she was growing her hair out again, it just touching her shoulders now. He remembered when he first met her and it was halfway down her back, she’d been so stressed about cutting it, moreso than anyone should've been, to this day he didn't know why. Matt had a gift in avoiding nearly every question about her past without making anyone else aware she was doing it. 

Not that Gray particularly cared, when it came down to it. Madison Well’s life was a mystery he really had no intention of solving, he’d had enough mystery women to last him a lifetime, and he'd known her for a grand sum total of twenty minutes. At least _this_ one had a sense of humour.

(Not that Carmen _ didn’t, _per se, but Carmen had been far more preoccupied with being mysterious and pretty and leaving him more shaken in five minutes than anyone had in his entire life, than in making it particularly distinct).

“You don’t look like you slept,” Matt said. She had the strangest way of being able to look at him like she was picking him apart. Carmen had looked at him the same way, but with Matt the familiarity was justified. “Did you have another dream?”

Gray sighed, “Yes, I had another dream. I’ve been having them all week.”

“And did you-”

“Yes, Matt.”

“Say the thing-”

“Yes, Matt.”

“Where you think we all have fursonas?”

_ “Yes, _ Matt.”

“I’m sorry, where he thinks we have what?” Toby asked.

“Fursonas,” Matt said, sagely, “It’s what furries call their animal characters.”

“Oh. Right. You think we’re furries. I forgot.” 

And off they went again. 

“I thought we’d established this, I _ do not _think that you guys are furries!” He said, perhaps a little too loudly, considering their location. Gray regretted telling them about the dreams, but he didn’t know why he was surprised. If they had been saying the things he was, he would’ve had the exact same reaction. 

“Well, do you have other friends who you think _ are _ furries?” Toby turned to him.   
  


“No! No I don’t!”

“Have other friends?”

Gray glared at her. Matt shrugged. “So why do you wake up saying it?”

“If I knew, Matt, I would tell you.”

“It’s the exact same phrase, everyday, right?” Toby asked.

“Yup.”

“All my friends are furr-”

“All my friends are furries.” Gray finished the sentence before Matt could. She snorted. Toby glared at her. 

The first few mornings it had happened he wasn’t even aware of what he was saying. It was reflexive, subconscious. But the first few mornings it had happened he had been so wrapped up in the hope that he might be finally unlocking something, finding _ something, _anything, any clue that might explain why nobody in his life had seen him in three years, that he hadn’t really paid attention to his words. 

He was stupid to get so hopeful. Stupid to think it would be that easy, as if his brain was some simple circuit, as if he was back in his high school physics class, and he could simply take the faulty part out, replace it with a new one, and expect everything to just light up again.

This time he’d tried to fix a globe and got fairy lights instead. 

“Hey, do you think,” Toby began, slowly, unsurely, “do you, maybe, think that this whole... thing has something to do with your whole, y’know, no memory thing?”

Matt turned to stare at him.

“What exactly do you think he was _ doing _ in the past 3 years?” 

“Well, I don’t know?” Toby stared down at his shoe. “I mean, Gray remembers nothing else from these dreams, and that’s the only thing he retains from them…”

“It’s the only thing I remember because I say it out loud. Every morning. And I still have no clue what it means.” Gray looked out at the water again, “But it’s not the only thing I remember. Well, actually, it sort of is, but… I don’t know.”

“That makes absolutely zero sense,” Matt told him. 

“I know, but it’s difficult to explain. Sometimes I think I can hear things. Like, voices, and sometimes I think I’m doing something. But then I wake up and it’s all blank.” 

The strangest thing about it was that it felt like he should’ve remembered something. It was as if ink had been spilt over the images, he could just wipe it away but then his hands were covered in the stuff and then he couldn’t stop making a mess of things and he was sinking further and further into it. He knew where he was and he didn’t. He was doing something and he wasn’t. He recognised everyone and had no clue who they were.

He understood everything and he couldn’t.

Gray was stupid to think that the dreams might have been a good thing.

“You know what?” Toby said, seemingly out of nowhere, “I hate rich people.”

“Mate, I don’t know how to tell you this,” Gray turned to him, reverie broken. “but you _ are _ a rich person.”

“But I’ve made Dad stop buying me stuff and everything! What else is there?” 

“Yeah, that’s not really how it works. I mean he still sends you money sometimes doesn’t he?” 

“Which you then use to buy _ us _things,” Matt interjected, “Look at it this way, you probably wouldn’t be guillotined in the class war, but you would likely be thrown in jail.”

Gray gave her a look.

“What? That’s not fair, I’m just a bartender, leave me alone!” Toby folded his arms and huffed, pouting. 

“So what’s brought on this revolutionary spiel?” Gray asked, “Rough crowd today?”

Toby rolled his eyes. “To be quite frank, If I wanted to have rich women in their forties take their third divorce out on me, I would have moved back in with my mother.”

“And if you go anywhere near your mother I’ll knock you out with a baseball bat and drag you back myself.” 

“It was a joke, Gray.”

“I know that, just...”

“How are things down your end?” Matt asked him. He ran his hands through his hair, reminded again of his headache.

“Well, the lighting designer’s got us running circles, so business as usual. A new girl joined today, though. Freshie, you can tell. Straight out of high school.”

“Huh. Good luck to her.”

“They’re gonna eat her alive.”

Matt shrugged, “She’ll pull through. But speaking of-” she checked her phone and stood up, grabbing Toby’s arm “-We should get going.”

“What? But you just got here.”

“I know, but they got shitty at me last time, don’t wanna risk it again,” Matt said, walking back up the concrete stairs, Toby in tow. “Try not to lose any more memories while we’re gone, okay?”

“Matt…”

“What? Just cause _ you’re _too fucking wuss to see the humour inherent.”

And with that, they left him.

***

Gray was waking up earlier and earlier. He wasn’t intending to, but he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. The words were out of his mouth before his eyes were even properly opened, and nothing brought him back to sleep after. It wasn’t long before he had the dawn call birdsong memorised, and soon he was waking up earlier even than that. Sleeping had become, in itself, a lesson in futility, he tried to fight it, but it was just like rolling a boulder uphill. It always came back down again.

And thus, the week passed. It was easy to adjust to the way the early dawn light crept into the apartment (it never really felt like his, even if the lease was signed in his name), but Gray had come to dread it, as well. 

He started working harder, before he even realised it, but there was a strange joy in knowing what to do next he found that work could give him (and he was desperately wanting of it, that was for sure). People had started to notice his newfound effort, his drive, but their praise mattered so little to him at this point that, even when he was able to translate Christian’s entire new ‘directorial vision’ into a viewable lighting run, he was so exhausted he couldn’t even find it in himself to be proud. 

But it was that same Saturday that Gray walked out to find Toby with his head in his hands, Matt’s arm around his shoulders, and nothing woke him up as harshly as that. His heart sank and his mind raced. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to know.

“Oh, no. What happened.”

Matt looked up at him. “It’s not good.”

“Wow, thanks Matt,” Toby laughed humourlessly. 

“Toby?”

“Toby… uh… may have lost his, well, _ shit _at a customer.”

Gray stared at her, bemused. Toby never lost his shit at anyone, it was a rule. He just didn’t do anger. What the hell had happened?

  
  


“Yeah. I know.” Matt said, reading his expression. “It was pretty glorious, actually. But then it got _ real _ ugly. Guy’s made a formal complaint.”

“Wow.”

“Wow, indeed,” Toby muttered from his hands. “I’m fucked. There’s no way they’re keeping me after that.”

“You don’t know that yet, Toby.” Matt protested, her arm tight around his shoulders, “Beth’s cool, and she likes you. She knows that you didn’t start it.”

But Gray knew that this was about more than that. Toby didn’t acknowledge him as he came closer.

“Hey, it’s alright. Everyone loses their temper sometimes.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, sometimes,” Toby snapped, in a murmur, “It’s all… fucking justifiable because it only happens _ sometimes. _ And then it keeps happening and it doesn’t _ stop _ happening, but it’s fine! It’s fine! After all, it’s only sometimes!”

“You know what I meant. Bad word choice, sorry.”

“After everything, _ everything _ I tried, I’m… I’m just gonna turn out _ exactly _ like-”

“No, you’re not. You’re more than she ever will be, you’re not gonna-”

“How do you _ know _ that!?” Toby burst out, making Matt jump slightly. “Just, people fuck me over and all I can think about is getting back at them somehow. All I think about is how I can hurt them, and, I know that’s normal and I _ know _it only happens very, very rarely, but how long is going to be before I lose grip completely? Before I… I...” he trailed off.

Gray didn’t know what to tell him. What could he tell him? This wasn’t something Gray understood, his anger was always kept tucked away for him to use at will, his to control, his to temper. This wasn’t something Gray could aid him with. There was no advice, no words of wisdom, nothing that could be of any of the help Gray wanted so desperately to provide. Matt had that strange, almost nihilistic optimism that pervaded everything she did, and Gray? 

All Gray had were fucked memories, nonsensical dreams, and furries for friends, apparently. There was nothing of value he could ever provide.

But there _ was _something else creeping up on him. From deep in the recesses of his brain, somewhere in the fog, perhaps, and it had taken to Toby’s words as if they were laid out in offering. He didn’t know what it was, but it was waking up, stretching like a cat in the sun, satisfied at finally being used after so long. Even if all he had placed on the altar was the vaguest form of an idea, it had taken to the votive. 

Deep in his mind, cogs were turning.

_ Get back at them somehow. _

How? With what?

_ Matt knows the place like the back of her hand. _

And Toby, when he shut his mouth, had the oddest knack for blending in anywhere. 

And him? And Gray?

_ Well, you could always turn the lights out on them. _

And just like that, an old machine came whirring to life.

He didn’t understand. Why did this all feel so familiar? Why was there a thrill building inside his chest, as this strange old machinery listed variables and exit strategies and ploys and diversions and threats all at once? Why did he know that, deep down, he knew what he was doing?_ Why did this all make so much sense to him? _

_ So, where do we start? _

“I know a way we can get back at them.”

The other two looked up at him, Toby’s eyes brighter than usual.

“What? Gray, I didn’t mean that, I...”

“What are you planning?” Matt’s voice was wary, like she could see what sort of plan Gray was concocting. Matt had that kind of effect on people.

“Just, come round to my place, tonight,” He said, barely aware he was speaking, so caught up in this new presence making itself known. “I need some time to think about this.”

“Gray, what-”

He left the pair and turned back inside, dazed, an old circuit thrumming with new life.

And, somehow, somewhere through all that machinery, all that wiring, there she was. He didn’t know her, but she knew him. She knew everything about him.

And Gray could almost feel her smile. 


	2. Gray, Robbery Planner Extraordinaire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gray makes some plans. Matt and Toby raise some questions.
> 
> All the while, a machine is hard at work.

There were many times in his life when Gray wondered if he had been dropped on his head as a baby (considering his parents track record with infant care, it wouldn’t be surprising). As he caught the bus home, he realised that this was one of them.

He was out of his mind.

Well, to be fair, that’s been established from the get go, but still. This was insane, as Gray broke out of the haze his mind had left him in that became more and more apparent. Absolutely insane. He could wind up in jail. Matt and Toby could wind up in jail. Was he seriously considering risking the livelihoods of him and his two best friends just to get his criminally induced kicks?

Well... yes.

Out of it his  _ mind. _

How were they gonna do it? What was even  _ worth  _ doing it? It was the Sydney Opera House, all it really had going for it was some tiles stuck to some triangles, it wasn’t exactly the prime housing for the world’s riches. 

But  _ oh _ , what did that matter when  _ it  _ was there? That thrill, the thrill that had somehow seized control away from his heart, that had commandeered his bloodstream all afternoon, rewiring his very cells to its tune. It filled him with such a desperate want that it almost hurt, right between his ribs, and when it reached its pinnacle it nearly made him double over. He was at the edge of something, he just had to take that final step. Over the edge, and it would all be fixed again.

But did he really want to implicate the only two people he genuinely considered friends?

_ If it gets the job done. _

Gray found himself outside his apartment block, so deep in thought he wasn’t aware he was there until he was. He stepped over the mess left behind by his self-righteous neighbour’s self-righteous chihuahua, unlocking the door at the front of the building. Up three flights of stairs, and into the apartment Gray finally was. But, the thrill, the machine, it didn’t give him respite. He grabbed a notebook (from the counter, a part of the general clutter he kept there) and sat down right there, at the coffee table, his legs extended underneath it. 

He had plans to make.

***

The coffee table was covered with notebook pages by the time Toby and Matt rang the intercom. Gray got up to let them in, and, after a couple of minutes of increasingly louder footsteps up the stairs, there was a knock at the door.

“Gray?”

He let the two in. Toby immediately went for Gray’s cabinets. Matt immediately went for Gray’s couch, before she caught sight of the pages on the coffee table. 

“What are all these?” She asked him, kneeling down to get a closer look. Toby came to join them, a bag of corn chips Gray didn’t even know he had in hand. Cracking them open, he offered the bag to Matt, who took a handful, before he grabbed some. 

“Plans,” Gray replied, taking some chips for himself. 

“I can see that. For what?”

Gray didn’t know how to phrase it. He sat down at the coffee table, and beckoned for Matt and Toby to do the same. They did, and the bag of chips ended up in the middle, over a crude sketch of the floorplan of what he remembered to be the Opera House’s main bar.

“OK, so you guys are going to think I’m crazy.”   
  


He had their full attention now. Gray threw caution to the winds, and continued.

“I was thinking that we start stealing shit from the people at the Opera House,” He burst out.

Toby choked on a chip.

_ “What?!” _

Matt stared at him from across the table. Unlike Toby, she somehow kept her calm, but her eyes were wide. Gray could see thoughts rushing through her head, mile a minute, and knew he would have to convince them fast. 

“Toby said it himself yesterday! He wanted to get back at them, and I have a way! And it’s not like these assholes would miss their stuff in the long run!”   
  


“Gray, I was upset! I didn’t actually mean it!”

“So what if you really meant it or not? Hear me out, Toby, that’s all I ask. You always have the choice to back out, but trust me on this, okay? I know that this is a lot, but I have a feeling, that this… this could be something more...” 

He didn’t know who was talking anymore, him or this strange creature that had awoken inside of him. But he could feel it, that glimmer in his eye, the mess of his hair, his hand ran through it again on impulse, the electricity imbued in him. And they could feel it too, Toby and Matt, he could tell. They could see it, the infectious power in his eyes, and slowly, the Machine began to seize control over them too, connecting new parts to an old circuit. Gray knew that it had them, that  _ he _ had them. Only a small tendril, a hook, but that was enough for now. He knew that, eventually, everything would fall into place. All it took was a matter of time.

It was, as always, Toby who spoke first. 

“So, why are we here, then?”   
  


“Because I can’t do this alone. I need you two.”

“We got that, but why?” It was Matt’s turn. She was unreadable, as always, but something in her voice gave away her uncertainty.

“Look, I have a plan. But it needs both of you to make it work,” He was thrumming, caught up in the whirlwind of trying to get them in position. Gray knew he had to keep talking.

“Ok, here’s my plan so far. I go trip the circuit box whilst they’re in the front bar. Cause a blackout. Preferably just before a show or in intermission. Then, Toby, you are going to get whatever you can off them in the confusion.”

“But I know nothing about stealing anything.”

“You’ll learn. Then, you are -”

“Why do I have to do it? Why can’t you or Matt do it?”

“Because you’re the best person for it. Then you’re-”

“I really don’t think that’s the best-”

“Just roll with me here, please. You’re going to get anything you steal to Matt, who’s going to get the goods to a safe location, and she will keep them there until I can come and get them out of the building. Then, I go back to “fixing” the electrical problem, the lights come on, everything goes back to normal until our dear guests realise that their wallets and jewellery aren’t exactly where they last thought they were.”

Silence. Until Matt broke it.

  
“Dude. There were so many issues in that. Like, I literally cannot list the amount of issues there were in that.” 

“Just give me time, we’ll fix them.”   
  


“OK.” She said slowly, staring at him. “Say we go along with this. Say that your batshit plan actually works. Where in fuck’s name am I supposed to hide  _ an entire haul of stolen goods?” _

“Matt, you know the Opera House better than anyone! Just find some unused storeroom, I’m sure there are heaps.”

“Gray, they don’t just keep random unused storerooms in the…” Matt trailed off, thinking, until-

“Wait. I know an old costume storeroom that no one really uses anymore. We could put them in there, if only for a few hours. But we’d have to be quick about it.”

Toby spoke up, having gone back to the chips, “So, you’re suggesting that we keep the stuff in the Opera House after we steal them? You do realise how risky that is, right?”

“Yeah, but it’d be too suspicious for any of us to leave before we’re supposed to. We need solid alibis. Matt puts the stuff in the storeroom, then she comes back to the bar. I let myself be seen fixing the electrical problem, and Toby doesn’t leave the front bar. We wait until we’re off shift, then we come and get the goods out. With any luck, nobody will notice their stuff’s gone until we can get it out.”   
  


The moment he said it, he realised how stupid it sounded. Matt and Toby looked at each other, then back at Gray.

“Gray, there are hundreds of people in that room. Hundreds of people who could risk the  _ entire _ plan if they notice anything.” Toby explained slowly. “And, considering as we’re taking their  _ very expensive personal valuables _ , they’re very much likely going to notice! That’s are a  _ hundred  _ different variables. We need to plan for that!”

“You’re right, we need to account for that possibility,” Gray looked down. Then he looked back up. “Wait. So you guys… are in?”

Toby and Matt looked at each other, and Gray could practically hear the unspoken.

“Maybe.” Matt said, “But let’s just talk hypotheticals right now.” 

“Ok.”

Toby spoke, again, “Here’s an idea: Matt, that costume room, are there props in there? Accessories?”

“I don’t think so…”

“Well, there can be. Let’s say the police get called. They come in, they search the place, they decide to check an unused costume storeroom for clues. And what do they find?”

Toby smiled the way he always did, sharp and cat-like. “A bunch of props and costume jewellery for a play years long gone. They leave, we come in, take the stuff out, and go home a large amount of stolen goods richer! Easy! Hypothetically, of course.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, that may not work. The storeroom I’m talking about, they mainly use it for old ballet costumes.”

Toby paused, then;

“Hang on, ballets have handheld props, don’t they? Like, fans, and tambourines and stuff, I’ve seen them be used.”

Toby turned to Matt, who nodded, slowly.

“Well, what if some of those boxes of props don’t go as deep as they seem?”

Toby had found his flow again.

“What, like fake bottoms?” Matt was skeptical.

“Well, maybe rephrase that, but yeah!”

“But don’t the police know how to spot those things?”

“Not if we design them right. We’d need to build them ourselves, but we still could.”

“I’ll build them.”

Matt and Toby turned to look at Gray. He shrugged.

“I came second in the state in industrial tech. I could design the boxes.”

“You sure, Gray?” Matt was giving him her signature look, the one that told him, whilst she herself was unreadable, she was reading absolutely everything about him. “This could take a while.”   
  


“I know that. I mean, Toby’s going to have to learn how to pickpocket, after all.”

“So, are you doing this or not?”

Toby stared at him, and when their eyes met there was a moment in which they understood. They both knew that Gray shouldn’t have ever asked, and Toby shouldn’t have ever accepted. But they both knew that they had never been in any position to refuse each other, they both knew how intrinsically bound they were, now. 

And then, Toby nodded.

“Oh, what the fuck.” Matt said, laughing a little sardonically. “But if we get caught, I’m selling you out, mate.” 

Gray smiled so wide it nearly hurt. 

“Yeah, so, about that whole pickpocketing deal,” Toby looked at Gray. “Exactly where and exactly  _ how _ am I going to learn how to do that?”

And there it was, again. That sense of familiar territory, and yet Gray had no clue where he was. The girl was there again, somehow, more of a concept than anything he could place as real, some guardian of some ancient part of his brain left abandoned and untouched, like an old ruin. He was at the edge of something, something that this strange machine and this strange figure were both leading him to, and he was at the door, the opening to knowledge he didn’t know how or why he had. 

But he opened it, all the same. 

“Don’t worry Toby. I’ll teach you.”

“Wait, Gray, you know how to pickpocket?”

And there was that smile again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My canon kind of has it that Gray kept a lot of the abilities that he got from his training, but has no memory of where he got them from, or even that he has them. So, essentially, whilst he's a skilled fighter and thief, he's has no memory of ever having these abilities. 
> 
> Not to mention that he's out of practice, so at the moment he's only slightly more capable than Matt and Toby, who are not remotely capable.
> 
> Also, I'm not entirely sure of exactly how many years Gray was involved with V.I.L.E. for. I know there was the one year he and Carmen were training together for, and then possibly another year when Carmen stayed at V.I.L.E. Academy. I'm placing another year between Carmen's escape and her and Gray meeting on the train. So, essentially, Gray's missing at least 3 years of his memory. 
> 
> Also, Gray's 23 in this fic. Him being an apprentice electrician suggests that he went into a trade straight after high school, and then starting robbing around that time. He was 19 when he first met Carmen. The fic is set around 10 months after Gray got his memories wiped, and 4 months after The Opera in the Outback Caper.


	3. Gray, Master of Monotremes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toby learns. It's a process. Puggles are involved

The incident between Toby and the customer eventually culminated in, well, nothing. Gray wasn’t surprised, even if Toby was, Beth didn’t leave her workers out in the cold like that. And she was incredibly convincing. Gray was glad, even if he never really worried about it. A Toby with a job was far more useful than a Toby without one. 

Gray wondered when he started thinking of his friends as his assets.

_ Since when couldn’t they be both? _

The dreams still hadn’t stopped. Instead, he found they were growing in intensity. He sometimes thought he could hear things, words in languages he didn’t understand, garbled and messed up, like talking through water. Sometimes he could pick up entire phrases, and something that he even believed was English, once, but even then he didn’t understand it. He was waking up earlier too, the morning getting darker and darker until it wasn’t morning anymore, but no matter how early he woke or how late he slept (the plans were taking up more and more of his time, the machinery chiming happily away), he could never sleep after the dreams woke him up. His therapist prescribed him sleeping pills, but it was still 3 AM and he was staring at his bedroom wall, breathing heavily, words still on his tongue. 

He was showing it, too. His coworkers were starting to give him worried looks in passing, and Matt and Toby had started whispering to each other when they thought he was out of earshot. 

But Gray was struggling to find it within himself to care. The plans were a growing priority, the noise was growing louder in his head, ringing in his ears. Soon it was all he did, work, plan, build (the fake prop boxes were coming along nicely), sleep and wake up again. He’d take what he could get at this point.

***

It was an early Sunday morning. Matt was on the apartment’s counter, another bag of Doritos in hand (It appeared that Gray had an endless supply, unbeknownst to him) in hand, watching as Gray strapped an old watch on. The coffee table had been moved out of the way, allowing for Toby and Gray to stand at each side of the living room uninterrupted. 

“OK, so. Trial run. There’s a wallet in my pocket and a watch on my wrist. You will try and take them off me, as silently as possible. Whatever you do, do  _ not _ alert me. Got it?”

Toby looked down, his shoe fiddling with something on the ground.

“I don’t know. I still don’t think that it’s a good idea. I mean, I don’t know, I don’t know if I should really be learning this. I mean, stealing’s illegal.”

“No shit! Really?”

“Shut up, Matt,” Gray didn’t look at her. “Anyway, it’s just me. You’ll be fine. Now come on, try it.”   
  


Toby sighed, then steeled himself for the steal. Gray smiled, then began to walk.

***

It did  _ not _ turn out well.

“Toby, I know this is your first attempt and all, but you somehow managed to not only alert me to your actions  _ before _ you even started, but to also trip over my foot with your hand still stuck in my pocket.”

“Really don’t need the recap, Gray.” Toby said from the floor. “I know this may seem surprising to you, but I was kind of there. Did kinda see it.”

“Well,” Matt piped up from the counter, “I for one, think this is a big positive.”

“How?”

“Because, Toby, you could literally not do any worse than that. So, stellar first attempt in my opinion.”

Toby groaned, still on the floor. Gray offered him a hand, and pulled him to his feet. The only loss that came with Toby being taller than him now was that Gray couldn’t pick him up anymore. Well, maybe he could, but he hadn’t really thought to try it yet. 

Anyway, there were more pressing matters at hand.

***

“Keep my attention elsewhere!” 

“I’m trying!” Toby snapped, tired and grumpy. He was getting better, but Matt was right, he really couldn’t have gotten worse. But he was still being too obvious. Maybe Gray was overestimating him by thinking he could grasp it in a day.

“I can see that, but it’s not working!” Gray ran his hands through his hair. “Look, we humans are wired to only have our attention on one thing at a time. You can use this to your advantage, but you have to keep my attention _ away from what you’re stealing. _ You’ve got to remember, mate, this is all about distraction.”

To be fair, it wasn’t exactly the kind of distraction Gray was best at, either. But Toby had a natural knack for slipping away unseen that Gray didn’t. He could capitalise off of that. 

“Ok, Ok, alright,” Toby sighed, and got back into position. “Let’s go again.”

***

“Toby, you can’t bump into me multiple times. That’s not how this works.” 

“Why? They’re in a blackout. They’re not gonna notice who bumps into them.”

Gray gave him a look.

“No. That’s not-” he started.

He stopped, thinking about it. 

“Actually, yeah, that’s a fair point. Fine, continue.”

It had actually occurred to him, when he was eighteen and first taken on his apprenticeship, that he might be able to use his newfound control of the light sources to his advantage. He’d considered it too risky, had kept it back for another time. The closest he’d come to ever having gone through with the idea, well, he couldn’t remember what happened next. 

But, hey, no time like the present. 

***

“If you’re going to take something off my arm, you can’t get hit with that arm,” Gray said, pulling away. “Not how this works, Toby.”

“Well maybe if you didn’t swing it so far we wouldn’t be having this problem,” Toby replied, “I highly doubt that I’m going to be stealing from a fucking windmill anytime soon.”

“You need to get better at this. It’s Matt and I’s asses on the line if you fuck it up!”

“I get that, Gray! You think I don’t get that?” Toby snapped, exhausted. 

“Yeah, I think you’ve drilled it well into him,” Matt piped up. 

Gray realised he was maybe being a touch too harsh. The amount of near misses  _ he  _ had when he was first starting out… he was lucky he was good at talking his way out of things. 

“You’re right… let’s just try again.”

***

“Again Toby, what the fuck was that?” It was Matt who spoke this time. 

“I panicked!” 

“You rammed your hand into my pocket so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if you reached the depths of hell,” Gray said, “You can’t get away with that when it comes down to it.”    
  


“Well, should I just remind you that I literally  _ learnt this hours ago.  _ Excuse me for being a  _ little  _ out of practice. _ ” _

Gray sighed, and ran his hands through his hair. Again. The sun was setting through the window above the sink, the room was tinted with the yellow sort of exhaustion that came with long hours and little progress. Matt had started on her second bag of chips (again, endless supply, apparently), but her weariness was starting to drain on them, too.

“OK, OK, you’re right. Let’s start again.”

Gray stood Toby in the middle of the room.

“Look, just keep my focus away from the wallet. People are wired to focus on one thing at a time, and these guys are childs’ play, I told you, they’ll already be distracted with the blackout. Just bump into them for good measure. You’d have a harder time stealing from a puggle.”

“What’s a puggle?” Matt asked, through a mouthful of chips.

“A baby echidna.”

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to steal from an echidna.” Matt swallowed her mouthful “I mean, it might spike me or something.”

“Yeah echidna’s are pretty spikey, baby or no.”

“Wow guys,” Gray started, melodramatic and advantageous. “You really just had to go and ruin my metaphor. Really? You guys have got to be-”

“Oh no, Gray, no, do  _ not _ say what I think you’re about to say. Do not. I will end you.”

“-Echidding me.”

Matt nearly fell off the bench with the weight of her groan.

“You know what? This calls for an intervention. I am stopping this right at the source, before you hurt me anymore with this bullshit,” Matt gave him a look of desperate sadness. “Graham, I love you dearly. But I cannot simply just stand by while you-”

“You’re sitting.”

“OK: that’s it” Matt said, shortly and sharply, “I tried to be reasonable, but clearly the time for peace has long since passed,” She looked up, piercingly. “Toby. Get him.”

Gray didn’t realise what she meant until Toby tackled him. And it turns out that, yes, Gray could still, _technically,_ lift him, but, no, it was not a comfortable or pleasant experience at all. His knees buckled with the shock of their now combined weights, and he staggered forward. Laughing, he spun around to throw Toby off. And Toby crashed down into an undignified heap on the floor. Groaning, he staggered to his feet and looked at Gray expectantly.

“OK, guys,” Gray said, “Unneeded and unfair physical violence upon me aside, let’s get back to it.”

But Toby only stared at Gray, unmoving. He seemed to be, for what Gray imagined was the first time of his life, rendered speechless. This was cause for major concern.

“What?”   
  


Toby’s eyes were wide “Have you, have you really not noticed?”

“Noticed what?”

Toby’s shock faded nearly instantly, 

“Yes!” He whooped, jumping up and down with excitement, pumping his hand in the air, and laughing ecstatically. Gray looked at Matt, who looked, for what appeared to be the first time in her life, completely at a loss for explanation. He stared at Toby, still celebrating, and wondered what the hell he was on about. 

Until he saw what Toby was holding. 

Clasped in his fist, the wallet from Gray’s left pocket.

“Toby, holy shit!”

“Wait, is that…?” Toby nodded and grinned at Matt, who, having finally caught on, dropped the Doritos on the counter and cheered.

Gray clasped Toby by the shoulders, laughing wildly.

“Toby, that was brilliant! I didn’t notice a thing!”

Toby smiled again, sharp as always.

“Just what you told me. All about distraction.” 


	4. Gray, Now a Kiwi, Apparently

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt and Gray have a heart to heart, and an epiphany.

In the three weeks since, Toby had almost become better at pickpocketing than he was (it never was his best skill, back when he was a young and actively utilising it, he was a far better chronic shoplifter, though he hates to admit it, because that was far more about charming, about distracting, about playing a part than anything else). They practiced nearly every chance they got, and even though Toby was still uncomfortable with the whole idea of it, Gray could tell he was starting to warm up to the idea. Either that, or Toby was particularly good at humouring him. Gray hoped it was the former.

He really hoped it was the former. 

Toby’s hesitance was understandable, and they were working through it, but he wanted him to know the feeling, to know the thrill of it, of getting away with it. Gray had stolen something, once, when he was with him, and it was the first and only time he had ever seen Toby angry at him (to be fair, it was understandable, if a little bit comical to be yelled at by what felt like the emotional equivalent of a baby bird learning to walk). He’d been surprised Toby had even agreed to learn in the first place. And he  _ was _ becoming more and more relaxed when they practiced, more confident. Maybe he would still come around. Gray wanted him to come around. 

From a technical level, sure, Toby was doing fine. But that wasn’t what Gray was unsure about. 

“Toby, stealing from me in practice is one thing, stealing from these guys is another. You’ve got to keep your cool.”

“Don’t worry, Gray, I’ll be fine.”

Still. 

He trusted Toby, he did. He trusted him with his life. And as much as Toby was becoming confident when they were practicing, but it was one of the few times he actually was. 

Something was wrong. 

Not anything dramatic, but Toby was acting strangely. He was suddenly going quiet in the middle of conversations, moments when he would just zone out completely, where he’d just become completely unresponsive, staring off into the distance. He was becoming dazed, oftentimes completely unaware of his surroundings, and Toby, having only grown up on peaceful ground in the last two years of his childhood, could never be in a situation unaware of his surroundings. But they’d point it out and he’d just correct himself. Ignore the issue. Brush them off. Gray just chalked it up to tiredness, that wasn’t abnormal. Toby was tired all the time, so was Gray, Matt was the only one of them who seemed to have a healthy relationship with sleep. But the more he saw, the more he worried. 

This couldn’t have come on unprompted. Something had to have happened.

Well, something  _ else  _ had to have happened. 

Then again, Gray was always worried, nowadays. He was worried about the dreams, worried about how much they had worsened, about how quickly this strange hidden part of his mind had seized control over him (he could never ponder that for long before it came back, diverting his attention with some other grand scheme, whispered into his ear, serpentine). But mostly, Gray worried about the plan. He supposed that one was fairly normal, at least, a plan to commit major criminal acts with your two best (and only) friends/coworkers was generally something that was very concerning for most people. But he was starting to make mistakes at work, small errors, but still, it was only fueling his coworkers' morbid fascination masked as concern for him. Someone was going to say something soon, and they couldn’t risk drawing too much attention to themselves. Gray needed to pull it together, Toby needed to pull it together, or the plan was fucked.

Although, aside from Toby's insecurity and Gray's insomnia, the plan was moving along seamlessly. Gray was working on the lining of the fake boxes (He had to make them seem thicker on the sides, had to cover up the hidden space) when his intercom buzzed. He shoved the boxes under an errant blanket and went to answer it.

“It’s Matt.”

He buzzed her in, and two minutes later Matt's voice rang through.

"Could you get the door for me?"

Gray opened the door and Matt staggered in, carrying two bulging bags. 

“Someone’s been shopping?”

Matt gave him a look. “ _ These  _ are only the finest props from the finest dance shops of Sydney.” She dumped the bags onto the couch. “I had to buy them all separately, so I wasn’t sure how much we needed. I figured that it’s good to cover up our tracks, just in case someone finds the boxes or tracks our purchases or whatever.”

“So what have we got?”

Matt upended one of the bags, and a stream of objects bounced onto the couch, satin fans, tambourines, castanets, ribbons, tiaras, hairpieces, and jewellery. Gray picked a necklace, running the pearls through his fingers.

“I thought if we put some costume jewellery in the bottom of the boxes, it might seem a little less suspicious.” Matt explained, gesturing to it.

“I mean, we are stashing a large amount of stolen goods in there, so I think if the cops find them we’re pretty much screwed anyway, but I like the thinking!”

“Hey, I tried.” Matt dropped the now empty bags onto the pile on the couch. “So how are the boxes coming along?”

Gray went to the desk in his bedroom, which had become an impromptu workbench, and took the badly covered blanket-box into the lounge room, where he put them on the coffee table. Matt raised an eyebrow.

“Wow, excellent disguise.”

“Shut up.” Gray lifted the blanket off the boxes. “Ok. These look enough like the ones they use?”

Matt nodded. “Yeah, just about. Hopefully once we get them in there people won’t look too much at them. We’ll put the props in once they’re done and move them in from there. Though I suppose we’d need to figure out how we’re going to get them in. Anyway,” Matt sat on the couch, the one without the horde of robbery related objects. “I came here to talk to you as well. I think we need to.”

Gray had anticipated this. He sat down next to her.

“Is this about Toby?”

“No. This is about you.”

Now, there was a surprise. 

“Why, what’s up?” 

Matt gave him a deadpan look. “Seriously? You’ve been looking like death warmed up for the past week. What’s going on?”

He guessed he should have seen this coming. Gray sighed.

“I don’t know. It’s just, the dreams, they’re getting worse. And I can’t go back to sleep after they’re done.”

“The furry dreams?”

“Yes, Matt. The furry dreams.”

Matt furrowed her eyebrows. “So, exactly what’s in these dreams? Like, what do you see?”

He shrugged. “Fog, a bunch of weird grey fog.” 

“And?”

“And then I wake up. But,” Gray paused, “There’s something odd about it. The fog, it feels like there was supposed to be something there, but there isn’t. Like, I’m aware that I’m looking at a memory I’ve forgotten. I’ve tried talking to the doctors, my therapist, but nothing they’ve done has worked. I don’t know what’s going on anymore.” 

“Ok, and they’ve been getting worse lately, right? Do you remember when?”

“Yeah, about a few weeks ago, why?”

“About a few weeks ago… ok.” Matt trailed off. Then she looked Gray dead in the eye.

“Does this have anything to do with that girl I saw you with that night at  _ Carmen _ ?”

Gray choked, slightly. Recovering, he kept his voice offhand, if not a little confused. 

“No! I mean, what’s she got to do with it?”

Matt fixed him with a look. “Because you started to look worse after you met her.”

He didn’t remember ever telling Matt about Carmen. But it was Matt, after all. 

“I was having the dreams long before then! She’s-”

Matt raised a hand, silencing him.

“That’s what  _ I _ thought! We never heard from her again after she stood you up, I just thought it was a coincidence! But then Toby sees the two of you again and suddenly you’re popping yourself off to New Zealand on a job-”

“How’d you know she stood me up? Also, Toby saw us?”

“Obviously, it’s Toby. That’s not the point here.” Matt brushed it off. “Anyway, you get back from Kiwiland, and suddenly you’re rolling up like a hot mess, because,  _ suddenly _ , the dreams are getting worse! There’s an obvious connection!”

It didn’t make sense. Well, it didn’t make sense... until it did. Why did the dreams get worse every time Carmen was involved? And they did get worse after Auckland. Something wasn’t adding up here. He looked at Matt again.

“Are you sure you’re not still mad because I went to New Zealand for her? Cause this seems like something you would do if you were still mad because I went to New Zealand for her.”

“I’ve moved past it,” Matt, said, still a little shortly, “I mean, it’d be really nice if you  _ didn’t _ just fuck off to foreign countries on a whim in the middle of something important, but what’s done is done. No, this isn’t about you leaving.” 

“But, I barely know her,” Gray said, because he couldn’t explain to Matt that it wasn’t on a  _ whim,  _ Carmen was very convincing (and by convincing he meant pretty and also seemed like she had known him for years), without getting punched (as if Matt wouldn’t fall for the same thing. If she was even into girls, that was. Maybe Carmen just had that effect on people? He wouldn’t be surprised).

“And yet she’s somehow involved in all-” Matt gestured vaguely at his head. “-this. I know something happened in New Zealand that you’re holding out on. Come on, spill. What’s the deal with you two?”

Matt had him. She knew he had him. There was really no point trying to argue with her at this point. Gray sighed, and started:

“I met her when she tried to sneak in backstage at  _ Carmen.  _ Her name, ironically enough, was also Carmen. This part you, apparently, know already,” Matt nodded. “It was strange, though. She kept acting like she knew me. I figured that we met during the missing years, but she denied ever even knowing who I was. And there was something about her, I couldn’t put my finger on it,”

It was more than just mystery. It was more than just familiarity. Carmen looked at him like he was a tragedy she only knew the ending to, and was just trying to figure out how he had gone from this to whatever fate was awaiting him. 

“Could’ve just been that she was pretty,” he said, “Could’ve been something else. But that night ended up being the last I ever heard of her. Well, until a couple of weeks ago.”

“How did she find you again?” Matt asked, “I mean, Toby would’ve said something had he seen her at the Opera House again.”

“She found me at the cafe that we were supposed to meet at, except, well, she had a proposition this time,” Gray decided not to question how much information his friends secretly gathered on him. He decided he wouldn’t like the answer. “A job offer. She told me that she ran a charity to help abandoned children, and that she needed someone to do lighting for their charity gala in Auckland. Selections from Swan Lake. I agreed, on the pretense that I got coffee with her after. So, I flew to New Zealand.”

“And when you got there?” Gray could hear Matt’s impatience for the good parts. 

“Well everything seemed normal until the end of the show. My video feed starting glitching. At least, I thought it was glitching until I realised that the “show” I was lighting was prerecorded.”

“What?”

“Yup. The whole thing was a fake.”

“But, why?” Matt was incredulous, “Why bring you all the way to New Zealand for nothing?”

“I didn’t know what to think of it, either. So I went to the theatre to try and figure out what was going on. And it turns out, it wasn’t a theatre. And Carmen wasn’t who she said she was. At all.”

“What do you mean? Who was she?” Matt’s voice was alight with a combination of curiosity and apprehension. 

Gray knew he was walking into dangerous territory. Sure, he could trust Matt with his life (an Only Friend privilege, he was used to those) but it wasn’t his life he was entrusting her with. He could risk Carmen, and potentially her entire operation, or organisation, or whatever, or whomever she worked for. He had to be careful with what he said. 

“You’re not gonna believe me if I told you.”

But still, out of all of them, Matt was the one who he could trust with something like this.

“Graham, you, me and our other best friend are currently planning a heist on one of Australia’s most iconic landmarks as we speak. Try me.” 

Fair.

“Alright,” Gray steeled himself for Matt’s inevitable disbelief. “It turns out… that Carmen was some sort of super spy, and the ‘theatre’ was actually some sort of weird villainous superlab.”

The look on Matt’s face told him volumes, but he continued before she could say anything. 

“You told me you’d believe me! Just let me finish,” He spoke over her disbelief, and continued, “It turns out that there were some people at the lab who wanted to do some  _ shady  _ shit. Like, they were talking some stuff about a machine that could cause instant blackouts, and Carmen needed  _ my _ help to stop it. Which was apparently, why I was there.”

_ “You?” _

“Apparently, the whole lighting thing was a front for security systems I needed to disable. I don’t know the exact logistics of it. And also I had to take apart the device in question itself, which was fun and not at all nerve-wracking, wasn’t like I had any pressure or the responsibility to prevent a mass crisis on me or anything.” 

“Al...right?” Matt was still skeptical. “That sounds absolutely batshit, but I really don’t have much to lose by believing you.”

“Yeah, it gets weirder,” Gray warned her, “There was a point where we got cornered. Well, technically Carmen got cornered, there was this weird Kiwi guy who got the best of her in a fight. Think like, greasy biology teacher but  _ literally _ greasier. And, I saw this weird weapon one of his henchmen dropped. It was sort of like this weird electricity stick, I can’t really describe it that well. But, I saw it, and… and…. I don’t know what happened, but it felt so familiar to me, and I picked it up. I knocked the guy out with it. I barely even knew how to use it, but, it was bizarre Matt, it somehow felt so natural to me.”

He hadn’t told anyone about how that part of him had screamed in delight when he picked up that thing. Gray didn’t even know what it was, back then, just chalked it up to adrenaline later on. But to tell Matt about it? 

_ She can’t know. You’re already on thin ice. She’ll think you’re a complete lunatic. _

“Ever since, the dreams have been getting worse.”

Matt stared at him.

“Gray, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I get the feeling you’re a bit used to that, considering what you've just told me. But do you think that that, stick or whatever that thing was, had something to do with your lost memories?”

“How? I don’t think that object legally exists outside of that lab, how could I have ever seen that in my life?”

“I don’t know but it would explain a lot!” Matt’s eyes were bright with enthusiasm. “Look, Gray, you’ve been through something incredibly traumatic. Something that wiped  _ 3 and a half years  _ of your life  _ clean _ . And, for whatever reason, there is  _ nobody  _ out there who can give you any sort of information on what happened, it’s almost as if you never existed in that. And suddenly, you see some sort of electricity stick, and you  _ recognise  _ it. The crackle rod awakens something within you!”

“Please don’t call it a  _ crackle rod _ .”

“Still! Aside from these bizarre furry dreams, this is the first thing that’s ever given you some semblance of a familiarity. And sure, the context is weird, but everything about this situation is weird! There is not a single thing about your memories or lack thereof that isn’t bizarre, if this gives you some semblance of an answer, you have to seize it!”

“But I can’t know for sure if it even  _ did _ mean anything! Carmen was being attacked, I was scared! It could have easily just been adrenaline.”

Knowing everything he knew now, it sounded flimsy even as he said it. But there was a part of him that didn’t want to believe that Carmen was connected to his memory, that she was intentionally keeping something from him. Particularly after learning who Carmen actually was. He didn’t want to think about what that meant, for him and for his memories. What connection could she have to him that would mean pretending she had never met him? With everything she was, what could that kind of secret mean? He just wanted to brush over it, pretend that there was nothing more to it then what he’d seen. But Matt wasn’t giving him much of a choice. 

“It’s not just that! Don’t you think it’s weird that, out of all the people in New Zealand she could’ve hired, she got you specifically? There are hundreds of people who could’ve done the job, and she chose you, an Australian who she’d only met once before? Everything about this screams ‘connection.’ You need to go figure out what’s going on!”

“What, go back to New Zealand? Matt, I can’t-”

“You have to!”

“Madison, we’re in the middle of planning a heist! I don’t have time to go running around after some vague breadcrumb trail to a lost memory! I can’t risk the plan like that!” He paused. “I can’t risk you and Toby like that.”

Matts’ shoulders slumped. “You’re right.” she sighed. “But the moment this is done, we’re figuring this out. The three of us.”

“The three?”

“Gray, you’d have our backs in a second. Whether you like it or not, we have yours.”

Gray knew better than to deny her. Even if he didn’t want to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you guys tell that I watched Season 2 while I was writing this chapter? 


	5. Gray, Decoy Box Hauler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plan finally gets a date, and Toby and Gray talk it out in the storeroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking a little bit longer than usual to update, I got a bit caught up. Update schedule should resume as normal from now.
> 
> Just dropping a tw for talk of emotional abuse. There's only talk of past emotionally abusive actions and relationships, but feel free to skip this chapter. I'll post a quick summary of the chapter in the end notes.

As much as Gray didn’t want to admit it, Matt was right. There was, undeniably, a connection between Carmen (and, by extension, the New Zealand incident), and the dreams. He just needed to figure out  _ what _ . 

Something of which he had absolutely no time for.

It wasn’t that he didn’t share Matt’s enthusiasm for the “Get Weird Furry Graham His Weird Furry Memories Back Party,” (though he had issues with the name), he just didn’t have time for putting together missing pieces, because the “Super Sydney Heist with Friends Party” (again with the names!) finally had a date in sight. 

“Why December 18th?” Toby had asked. 

“The Nutcracker season closes then.” Matt explained, “I assume that’s why you picked it, right Gray?”

“Yeah. It’s the final performance, so there’ll be a lot of high profile people there. A lot more money, a lot more prestige, if you know what I mean.”

“But, with that logic, wouldn’t it make more sense to set it for opening night? Y’know, the one all the rich fancy people get tickets for?”

“Final performances are just as important as opening ones.” Matt stated, somewhat haughtily.

“Anyway.” Gray cut in, “If a major robbery happens during a performance, they may cancel the other ones. Or increase the security, which could ruin the show.”

“Gray!” Matt had chuckled, “I didn’t know you valued theatrical integrity so much!”

“What can I say? Tchaikovsky and I go way back.”

***

So, the wheels were in motion. The Machine, happy with the feast Gray had provided it, had finally quieted down. The Girl had long disappeared (Gray first thought that she had left after achieving her goal, but it took Matt to realise that he hadn’t seen her since New Zealand). It almost felt like Gray could finally have a moment of peace. 

Except that Toby was still unsmiling, still quiet. And it was like his insecurity had turned like tetanus, like it had worsened from the smallest pinprick. Gray knew that he had to talk to him, and soon. Gray couldn’t leave Toby like this. Not now, and not ever.

It was during their shared lunch break on a warm November Thursday, and Gray and Toby were moving the final box into the storeroom. It was as Matt had said; getting them in had proven difficult. He had to bring them in separately, under the guise of being one box, filled with spare parts Gray had brought in (he was glad no one in security questioned why one lighting tech suddenly had to bring his own equipment, but he supposed no one in security was paying all that much attention to  _ one _ lighting tech). Matt had had the sense to bring the ‘actual’ props in earlier, so Toby was helping Gray maneuver the now laden box into the storeroom.

“Ok Gray, that should do it. Let’s just set it down here.”

They both lowered the box to the ground, where it now sat quite neatly in the corner of the storeroom. Toby shifted some other boxes on top of it. 

“Thanks.” Gray said. The storeroom they had chosen was small, and musty, Matt had been right in her assumption that it was unused. The left wall was covered with rows of old costumes, all looking like they hadn’t been removed in years. The boxes were stacked down the other side, along with boxes Matt had somehow found to use as decoys (that girl was 165 centimetres of pure criminal mastermind, he was sure). Gray leant against the wall, next to a peach coloured dress that, according to the tag, had been last worn in 2015, and looked like it had barely been touched since. Toby sat on the boxes, extending one foot in front of him and letting the other hang off the side. 

“So…” Toby said, in the tone that he used when he felt he needed to make conversation “So that Carmen girl was some sort of superspy all along?”

“Matt told you.”

“Did you really expect anything less from her? Anyway, you’re my best mate. If you’ve secretly had your memory wiped because you got on the wrong side of the Men in Black, I need to know.”

“Besides,” Toby gave him a worried look. “I want you to stop looking like shit all the time. Even if that means I have to fight off the FBI  _ and _ Carmen Sanwhateverigo.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Toby looked at him, confused. Gray knew that that opening  _ probably  _ wasn’t the best way to start off this type of conversation. Still, he prided himself on his adaptability for a reason. He kept going, anyway.

“Toby, you haven’t been yourself lately.”

Toby went quiet, looking at the foot that was still dangling off the edge off the boxes. Gray took it as a sign to continue.

“You do know that I trust you completely, right? That you are, by far, one of the most talented people I know?”

He still wouldn’t meet Grays’ eyes. 

“Look, I get that preparing for an  _ actual robbery _ is pretty terrifying. But I know that you’ll be able to pull off anything it throws at you. So honestly, in my opinion? You don’t deserve the lack of confidence you have in yourself.”

“I have confidence in-!”

“ _ Toby _ .”

Toby went silent. When he finally spoke, his voice was strained with emotion.

“But, but what if I fuck it up anyway? Like, what if I fuck it up, what if I get us caught? You guys could get hurt and then it would be all my fault and there’d be nothing I could do and she’d be completely right about me and  _ oh my god I can’t do this. _ ”

Toby was starting to struggle for breath, and Gray knew what was coming next. The first time he’d seen it he was at a complete loss, but this was not the first time it had happened. He was across the room in a second, next to Toby, an arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“Whoa, ok Toby, breathe. Breathe with me, ok? Deep breaths, in and out, ok? Good, Toby. Just breathe.”

They stayed like that for a while, in silence, until Toby’s breathing finally slowed. He relaxed slightly against Gray’s side. Gray rubbed his hand up and down his shoulder.

“Now, Matt and I, we both know what we agreed to. We know what it will cost if something goes wrong. But we agreed to it anyway! There’s no mistake you could make out there that we didn’t sign up for. You wouldn’t blame us if we screwed up, we’re not going to blame you, either. Ok?”

“Ok” Toby mumbled. And then,

“That night, the night after you taught me how to pickpocket, I” Toby exhaled shakily, then continued, “I… she was in my apartment... when I got home.”

“Toby, you don’t mean…”

“Yeah.”

Gray pulled Toby into his arms, as tightly as he could, Toby’s face pressed into his shoulder.

“I don’t know how she found me, but she did.” Toby continued, his voice muffled, “She was just sitting there, so cold, and the moment I walked in she demanded to know why I hadn’t contacted her. ‘How dare I just abandon her like that? After everything she had given me!’ Then she asked me to come back. She ‘knew I wasn’t financially capable, knew that I’d be a complete failure without her.’ And when I said no, she just stared me down. ‘ _ Tobias _ . Stop acting like a child. Stop trying to slum it in the city and come back where you belong.’ And I told her, I told her I was never coming back, not after everything she did and she, she really lost it with me. She told… she told me that…”

He heard Toby sniff.

“She told me that, that, she wouldn’t have had to treat me the way she did if I hadn’t been such an issue to raise. She told me that, that the stress of parenting me was what caused her marriage to fall apart, and that’s why Dad didn’t take me with him when they divorced. That all I would be to her now was an embarrassment.”

Gray held him tighter, something he didn’t quite realise was possible. 

“She, she told me, told me that she wouldn’t be surprised if I, if I ended up in jail in 5 years time. That she was glad she didn’t have me leeching off of her for money anymore. That she no longer had to provide for her no-good  _ criminal _ of a son who wouldn’t even come back home to see his mother. And then, then, she just walked out.” Toby finished softly. “Before I could say anything. Slammed the door behind her.”

“Oh, Toby.” Gray held him for a second longer. When he pulled away, he put his hands on Toby’s shoulders. 

“But, she’s right, isn’t she? I  _ am _ a criminal.”

Gray felt something horrible twist and convulse inside of him. That moment back at the apartment played in his mind, again and again.

“Toby, you know you don’t have to do this…”

Toby shook his head.

“You know I could never refuse....” He trailed off, leaving it again unsaid. The twisting grew worse. 

Gray sat back against the wall. And it was silent. 

Until Toby broke it. Toby always broke it.

“How did we end up here?”

“It’s my fault. I should’ve never-”

“I didn’t mean the robbery.”

“Neither did I.” 

Toby looked at him, his expression indescribable, his eyes still brimming.

“You know if I could go back I wouldn’t change a thing, right?”

“Me neither.”

“But, here we are.” Toby laughed, hollowly.

“You deserve better.” Gray told him. 

“Than you?”

“Maybe.”

“Funnily enough, I used to think the exact same thing.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“You did.” Toby leant his head back against the wall and looked up. “I’m more than she thinks I am, aren’t I?” 

“You are.”

“I’m more than anyone thinks I am.”

“You know, my offer still stands. You can still pull out.”

“You know I can’t.”

“But do you want to?”

Toby went quiet for a long time, then;

“No.”

It felt like a blessing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so, summary for those who didn't read:  
The robbery date is set for December 18th. Toby and Gray move the fake boxes into the storeroom, and Gray talks to Toby about his lapse in confidence. Toby reveals that his emotionally abusive mother came to his apartment the night after Gray taught him how to pickpocket, and lost it at him when he refused to move back home. Gray comforts Toby and he feels better.
> 
> Sorry, I know a lot didn't happen this chapter. The main focus is going to be on the heist for a while, but don't worry our characters will be figuring out Gray's issues as well!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Gray, Dreams Reinvented

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio goes to the Botanic Gardens.

Toby had come back into himself, and even though their conversation in the storeroom had left him broiling in a strange guilt-thrill hybrid, Toby’s refusal had become his sole saving grace. He didn’t know if Matt knew what exactly was said, or the true extent of why Toby had accepted as quickly as he did, but he had a feeling she knew there was something deeper than what he’d told her. He often wondered how the world looked to her, being as perceptive as she was, how different was he in her eyes than he was to his own? Sometimes he’d considered asking her, but always decided against it. He’d already been too obsessed with how other people saw him. 

September rolled into early October, and daylight savings finally began. Gray couldn’t say he hated the longer days, whilst he was by all means a nocturnal creature (working backstage did that to a person) he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed the little extra sunlight. 

Matt, however, was ecstatic about the warmer weather. She started joining Gray and Toby out on the harbour at every break she could, where she basked in the sunlight, and she started taking them out to the Botanic Gardens, which were nearby. Gray knew that Matt spent most of her childhood in the sun, and he found he couldn’t deny her this. 

So, the three of them had taken position under an age old fig tree, surrounded by runners and people using the sunlight to crank out some pilates, Matt lying spread eagle in the sun, Toby eyeing a nearby magpie wearily (“Swooping season’s over, Toby, stop worrying.” “I’m not worried, that bird just has some bad vibes.”). Gray leant against a tree root and closed his eyes. A minute of peace (and how nice a minute it was). Finally.

_ It was freezing. The cold wind was whipping his face, so fast and so strong that it was nearly snatching the air straight out of his throat. He struggled for breath. All around him, the grey fog was contorting rapidly, swirling, spinning, senseless. He couldn’t figure out where he was. He didn’t know if he was standing or not. He didn’t know where he was. His lungs began to pound against his ribs, and it was all he could feel. He could barely see his own hands. All there was was a rushing, pounding noise, growing louder and louder with every heartbeat. He tried to call out for help, but he couldn’t open his mouth, couldn’t say a thing. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t breathe. He needed to breathe, his lungs were screaming, he felt like his ribs were going to break under the pressure. He needed to  _ breathe. 

_ Gray tried to move, take a step forward, but he couldn’t keep his balance. He tried to stop himself, but he was barely aware of his arms, and his face suddenly met hard ground. Or soft ground, to be exact. The very soft, very green ground.  _

_ Grass? _

_ And suddenly, the fog cleared. The silence was ringing in his ears as he lay there, barely able to control the sharp, gasping intakes of air. Gray rose up onto his hands and knees, looking around him. He was on a hill, and it was still freezing, but the grass was green and the sky was clear. All around him, there were snow capped mountains and… _

_ Sheep? _

_ There were about 30 of them on the hill, all grazing menially, seemingly completely unaware that Gray was there. It all seemed oddly familiar, but he still had no clue where he was. Still, mountains, sheep. There was only one place he could be. _

_ “New Zealand?” _

_ The sheep closest to him looked up. _

_ The sheep stared at Gray. Gray stared at the sheep. The sheep stared at Gray. Gray wondered why he was waiting for answers from a sheep. The sheep stared at Gray. _

_ It gave a resounding ‘baa’ and then all the sheep were staring at Gray, who was still on the ground. And suddenly, sheep were moving all around him, joining the sheep in front of Gray, the flock gathering in front of him, until they were at the top of the hill, staring down at Gray from above. They started baaing, out of time and cacophonic, rising like a crescendo until it was all Gray could hear, until it wasn’t baaing at all, but voices, accents, languages, all indiscernible to him, blasting his mind inside out. Then, the flock began to part down the middle, and Gray could finally see the very pinnacle of the mountain. _

_ At the top stood one lone sheep, separated from the flock. Gray looked at it. There was something different about it. It’s wool, it was- _

_ Then the sheep met Gray’s eyes, and the fog came pounding back in, louder and faster than ever before. Gray tried to drown it out, covered his ears, but it was in his head, beating at his very _ brain,  _ ceaselessly, endlessly - _

“Graham!”

“All my friends are-”

Matt quickly covered his mouth. Gray felt grass beneath him and froze, until he saw the branches of the fig tree, and his friends concerned faces, Matt’s hand still on his mouth.

He was in the Botanic Gardens. It was all a dream. 

Matt let go of him, and he sat up.

“Ah, sorry guys. Must’ve fallen asleep.”

“We know.” Toby said. “You started freaking out. Tossing and turning and all that. You kept saying stuff, too.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Well, you kept groaning, for starters.” Matt replied. “At first I thought you were having some kind of weird sex dream-”

“Matt,  _ what _ ?” Toby cut in.

“Guys have them all the time, right? Leave me alone!”

“Matt, we really don’t- you know what? We’ll talk about this later. Continue.”

“Well, I thought you were having a sex dream, but then you started to sound like you were in pain. I only realised something was up when you said that you couldn’t breathe.”

“I said that?”

“Yeah.” Toby continued. “We nearly called triple zero, really freaked us out, but you were breathing fine so we just assumed it was just part of the dream. Then you said ‘New Zealand’ in this really questioning tone and went quiet for a bit, really still as well. It was weird.”

“We tried to wake you up.” Matt cut in, “But you were out like a light. And then you shot up and said, well, what you always after these dreams, and I figured that it probably wasn’t a good idea for you to announce something like that to the entire park.”

“Thanks, Matt.” Gray layed back down on the grass and rubbed his eyes. His head was still pounding.

“So,” Toby said, laying down next to him. “That was one of the fabled ‘furry dreams,’ huh?” 

“Yeah,” Gray replied, “But, also no? This one was different.”

“Different?” Matt perked up “Different how?”

“Well, this time there were actual images. I mean, the fog was still there, but there was other stuff as well.”

Matt shot up with excitement. “What kind of stuff did you see?”

“I was on a mountain.” Gray started. “It was cold and windy, and I was surrounded by sheep.”

“Sheep?” Toby interjected. “Where were you, New Zealand?”

“Yes, actually, I was.” Gray responded, and the mocking expression fell off Toby’s face in an instant. “And then all the sheep started baaing at me, but when I looked at the top of the mountain I saw this black sheep, at the very top.”

“Then it looked at me and suddenly the fog was back. Then I woke up.” Gray finished. “I’ve never had a dream like that before.”

“A black sheep, huh.” Toby said, deep in thought. “Any idea what that could mean?”

“No clue.”

“Well,” Toby started, “Black sheep is generally what a term for people who stand out, right?”

“Yeah…”

“And it was in New Zealand, so we know it’s got something to do with Carmen and the Auckland incident. So maybe your dream was telling that something about that whole thing wasn’t right?”

Gray gave him a deadpan look. “Trust me, I didn’t need a dream to tell me that something wasn’t right about  _ that _ whole shebang.”

“Anyway,” Matt cut in “You only get the grey fog when you’re having dreams connected to your lost memories, right?”

“That’s the working theory, yeah.”

“Well, assuming that’s true, and what Toby says is right, your dream serves to attest to the fact that what happened in New Zealand has something to do with your lost memories.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t explain the black sheep.”

“Well, maybe, your subconscious is trying to tell you something.” Matt pondered. “Maybe it’s trying to tell you that there’s more to the story, hence why you were back in New Zealand, and in order to figure it out…” Matt trailed off.

“To figure it out,” Toby stepped in, “maybe you need to find what stands out! Hence the black sheep!”

“Yes!” Matt jumped up. “Toby, you’re a genius!”

“Um, hate to burst your bubble,” Gray interjected, “But I already  _ know  _ what stands out. it’s the part where Carmen’s charity is a front for a  _ spy agency _ .”   
  
“Yeah, but which charity?” Toby asked him. “Did she ever tell you about it?”

“She told me it was to help abandoned children around the world.”

“What was it called?”

“I forget. I don’t know if she even told me.”

“Wait.” Matt cut in. “You took up a job in a  _ foreign country _ from a girl who you  _ barely knew _ , who sought  _ you _ out  _ specifically _ , and you didn’t even bother to find out the charity’s  _ name _ ?! Graham, all due respect, but how the  _ fuck _ are you not dead yet?!”

“Look, ok, maybe I didn’t think that one through!” Gray defended. “But in the moment I was just kind of surprised to see her back and she was still really pretty and I liked how she found me specifically and I don’t know? I just kind of trusted her.”

Matt shook her head at him. “You know, if I let  _ my _ horniness cloud  _ my _ judgement like that, I’d be dead in a ditch by yesterday.”

“Maybe we’re looking at this the wrong way.” Toby suggested. “I mean, we know that Carmen is somehow connected to Gray’s memories. However, maybe instead of figuring out  _ Carmen’s _ deal, we try and figure out what charity her organisation is fronting as?”

“But that’d be even more difficult.” Matt argued, “Even as a front, they’re going to make it elusive. They don’t want people looking too closely.”

“Yeah, but we won’t know until we try!” Toby was grinning again “I mean, if this is the only lead we have to Gray’s memories, we have to follow it, right? Regardless of if it goes nowhere!”

“No we don’t.” Gray interjected from the grass. “Do I have to keep reminding you guys that we have more pressing issues at hand? Carmen and her spy agency can wait.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Matt conceded. “Sorry.”

She sat back down.

“But still, how is an usher, a bartender and a lighting tech going to track down a top secret spy agency?”

Gray groaned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh lordy I love them but these dumbasses are looking in all the wrong places.


	7. Gray, Surprise Party(?) Planner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt's birthday approaches, so Gray and Toby make some plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so this is super late but this chapter's a little longer than usual so I hope that makes up for it.

Gray loved Matt and Toby, he did. And he knew that they were doing what they thought was best. But they had become swept away in trying to piece together Gray’s past, and it was starting to irritate him. He didn’t want to admit it, but there was a part of him that found a strange solace in the stasis, in there being no way of his memories ever coming back, back when all he could do was accept what he’d lost, and try to piece his life back together.

He wished he could say that it was taken from him the moment the dreams started, but that wasn’t true. He took it from himself, that day on the Harbour, when the Girl first took his hand and watched as he, controlled by a fierce protectiveness he didn’t understand, let the Machine into his head. Maybe that was the reason that he was so insistent on keeping Matt and Toby away. 

Maybe he didn’t want them making the same mistake.

*** 

“So, how have you been, Graham?”

He was sitting on a pale beige couch, his hand absentmindedly running up and down the canvas fabric. His therapist, Michelle, was across from him, sitting in a desk chair. She was in her mid 40s, and had a black bun, a navy pencil skirt, and more the air of a cutthroat business woman than any psychologist. But his doctor had pressed her card into his hand when he was discharged, and told him that she specialised in amnesia patients. So he’d been seeing her ever since. 

“I’ve been… good.” He felt like he was lying by omission, like he wasn’t telling her the full story, even though it was a simple question. Michelle was often like that. 

“Toby and Matt are going ok?”

“Yeah, they’re fine. Matt’s birthday’s coming up soon.”

“Are you guys going to do anything for it?”

“I don’t know yet. She mentioned something about her parents coming down for it.”

“Does she get on well with her parents?”

“She doesn’t really talk about them much, but I think so…”

“Good. How about the dreams?”

“They… haven’t changed.”

“The same thing? Every night?”

“Yes.”

Michelle rested her pen down. He got the feeling that she could tell he was lying.

He knew that he should have told Michelle the truth, as he walked home in the Sydney twilight, but then he might have to explain Carmen and New Zealand, and he highly doubted that she would ever believe him (he was still surprised that Matt and Toby did). But there was also a faint mistrust, a sense that Michelle’s interest in his case was more than just professional. She had told him, once, that she’d never seen a case like his before, and sometimes Gray would wonder if she actually wanted to help him get better at all, or if she just wanted to study him. So he kept the dreams secret, even if he knew that he shouldn’t.

_ You can’t tell her. She’ll think you’re insane. _

She was his therapist. He highly doubted that that was the issue here.

_ Still. _

Still.

***

Toby rang him later that night.

“Good evening, Tobias.”

“Gray, we talked about this. You can’t answer the phone like that, you sound like that one guy in ballet who tries to get it with his pas de deux partner.”

“Well, uh, that may actually be a… fair assumption.”

“Wait, what?”

“In my defense, it was one time. Anyway, what’s up?

“You know what, I’m just not gonna ask. What are we gonna do for Matt’s birthday?”

Gray sat up from where he was laying down on the couch, to lean back against the couch. “I thought her parents were coming down?”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. But apparently they cancelled on her.” Toby paused. “I think they had a fight.”

“Ah.”

Hell hath no fury like Matt scorned. Gray and Toby remembered only too well the last time a guy at work pissed her off (the fear of God had never been placed into them swifter). She was vicious, venomous, and  _ never _ apologised first (It was a rule, she told them once). Her feuds could last for months after she had stopped being angry about them, and her parents were, apparently, no different, a combination which created family conflicts nothing short of civil wars.

“How long do you think this one is going to last for?”

“Who knows. You know how they get.”

“I don’t get Matt sometimes.” Gray admitted. “Like, normally she’s so chill, but then she gets mad and suddenly goes full Machiavelli on our asses.”

“I know. ”

He lay back down on the couch. “So, do you think we should make plans for her birthday?”

“Well, I think we should make sure that she actually  _ is _ free, first. Do you have any ideas?”

“I’ve got an idea. Also, what are we gonna get her? Like, for a gift?”

“Well, I was thinking of getting her tickets to  _ Sylvia _ . You know, the ballet.”

“You were thinking of getting her tickets to a show at a place where she works, where she can simply watch the show from the TVs in the foyer at any given time?”

“It’s not the same as seeing it live, though!”

“Still.”

There was silence over the phone.

“Ok, fair.”

“Well, it’s no biggie. We’ll just think of something else.”

More silence.

“Toby…” 

More silence.

“Toby, you didn’t happen to do something very impulsive and expensive, as you so often are prone to do, did you? Like, oh I don’t know, already buy the tickets?”

“...No.”

Gray couldn’t help but smile. “Toby, mate, I love you, but you’re a  _ terrible _ liar.”

“Ok I got her tickets!” Toby confessed. “I got her three so she could take her parents! But then I found out her parents canceled and - stop laughing at me!”

Gray quieted down. “Toby, you’ve gotta stop impulse buying stuff for your friends.” He said, still grinning.

“I know.”

“So, what are we going to do with the other tickets?”

“Well, she could take some other friends, maybe.”

“She has other friends?”

“She has to. We can’t be the only ones!”

Toby paused. “I don’t know Gray, Matt only moved here a couple of months before you came back. It's possible.”

“Huh. Either way, though, we should just give her the tickets, let her decide what to do with them. We can say they’re from the both of us, I’ll pay you back half for them.”

“You sure, Gray?”

“I’m sure.”

“Thanks, mate.”

“You check what she’s doing. I’ll make the plans.”

“Where are we going?”

“Let’s keep it a surprise, but I know a place.”

***

Matt, who Gray was sure suspected something, did confirm that a) She was free on all dates required, and b) She and her parents weren’t talking. Gray and Toby planned the surprise party (which, considering as there were 3 people in attendance, didn’t really count all that much as a party) for the weekend before Matt’s birthday, and Gray had found spot. It was about a 25 minute drive out of Sydney. He’d been there once before (an old schoolfriend had shown him), so he knew it was pretty enough and deserted enough to justify traveling so far out for some salt water (Sydney had some fine beaches on its own, but the three of them had collectively decided that they wouldn’t touch Bondi with a 10 metre pole). So, he packed them all food and drinks, tried his hand at baking (he wasn’t all too bad, after he threw away the molten remains of his first attempt), sunscreen, towels, and tracked down his board shorts from the back of his wardrobe. He just hoped that Matt liked it.

The Saturday of Matt’s surprise party(?) Toby and Gray rang Matt’s intercom at 8am in the morning. Matt’s sleepy voice rang over.

“It is 8 in the fucking morning, so it’s either Toby or Gray, in which case, what the fuck do you want.”

“Both. Let us in.” Toby said.

There was a very dramatic sigh over the intercom, and the front door unlocked. The two climbed up two flights of stairs to Matt’s apartment. She opened the door before they could knock, wearing an oversized high school jersey, with her hair up in a mess of a bun. Gray could see, past Matt’s outstretched arm, a bowl of muesli and a glass of milk on the table. They had obviously caught her in the middle of breakfast.

“What do you guys want this-” she yawned. “-godamn early?”

“We’re taking you out for the day.” Toby explained, “Grab your swimmers.”

Matt blinked at them, and gray could tell that she was trying to assess how much of their shit she was willing to put up with today. She stood back to let them in.

“Just lemme finish breakfast first.”

Apparently, she was willing to put up with a lot. 

They sat at her kitchen table.

“So, where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise. Gray found the spot.”

“Ok.” Matt chewed. “Will I need anything in particular?”

“Your swimmers, and a spare change of clothes.” Gray told her. “Also walking shoes.”

“Oh… are we hiking or something?”

“Kind of.”

Matt finished her muesli and took her bowl to the sink, she rinsed it out, before disappearing down the hallway to get changed. They waited there for 15 minutes, until she stepped out, wearing a loose sundress over her bathers, a sunhat, and a pair of worn trainers. 

“Ok, we ready?” She asked, stuffing a towel into a bag.

“Yup, let’s go.”

Matt closed the door behind her, and locked it from the outside.

***

Gray was driving Toby’s car, which was somehow both very old, very worn, and Toby’s absolute pride and joy. He loved it so much that he barely even drove it himself.

“Wow, Toby,” Matt piped up from the back seat. “I can’t believe you’ve let someone touch your true love without having an actual breakdown.

Toby was staring out the passenger side window. “Well, I mean, it  _ was _ Gray’s car to begin with.” He smiled. “It seems fair.”

“Wait, really?” Gray took his eyes off the road to give Toby a surprised look. 

“You don’t remember it?” Toby stared at him.

“No, obviously.”

“But you had this car long before you lost your memories.” Toby, said, surprised. “You sold it to me before you left. It was the first thing I ever bought for myself.”

“Huh, weird.”

“Do you have any idea where you went?” Matt asked. “Like y’know, during your  _ lost years _ or whatever?”

“No clue. It was like I disappeared. Nobody had seen me in years.” And yet, there was an apartment in his name, an apartment he’d somehow had for three years, an apartment in a building in which the other tenants didn’t even recognise him.

“Wow.” Toby sighed, wistfully, “I remember when  _ that _ was the weirdest thing about you, Gray. Those were the days.”

“Shut up.”

It took them half an hour to get to the national park. They got out of the car, and looked around. They were surrounded by rainforest and movement and birdsong. Gray unloaded the food and the bags from the car, resting them on the ground, and making sure that all the food containers were sealed tight, (before the blue tongues' decided to confirm it themselves) before he pulled out the sunscreen. After they all applied it (“Toby, the hole in the ozone layer is over Australia for a reason, I don't care if you don't get sunburnt” " _ Alright _ , Matt, I'll put it on.") They began the long walk down the path, Gray leading the way, and Toby taking up the rear, the three of them laden with bags and containers. The forest was alive with movement, and Matt often stopped to take pictures of a lizard or a bird she had spotted. The walk was nice, the rainforest was cool and shady, and Gray nearly zoned out, holding an esky to his chest. He saw something flash out of the corner of his eye. 

He froze, and Matt nearly bumped into him.

In the middle of the path, staring at the three of them, less than a metre from Gray, was a joey.

“Toby! A kangaroo!” Matt whispered, snatching for her phone. 

“A young one, too.” Toby whispered back.

The kangaroo stared at them, standing up on its back legs to get a better look at them. It had strange eyes.

But then Matt took her pictures, and the joey finally hopped off the path.

“That was weird.”

“It was.” Gray agreed. “Well, let’s keep going.”

It was another 10 minutes of walking before they finally got there. Gray stopped Matt.

“Ok, you gotta have your eyes closed for this part.”

“Why?”

“Surprise etiquette, just roll with it.” Toby said, covering her eyes.

He walked her towards the beach. And only when her feet were firmly on the sand, did Toby, ensuring that her eyes were still shut, and step back to stand next to Gray.

“You can open your eyes now, Matt!”

She opened them.

“Happy Birthday!!!”

Matt didn’t say anything, she simply stared at the,. Resolute Beach was empty, the only movements were the waves, hitting the beach in a rhythm of their own, undisturbed by the 3 new arrivals. The sand was golden brown and warm, and the ocean was clear, bright, and the shade of green that only the ocean, and the most perfect ocean at that, could achieve. It was incredibly pretty, but still, Gray was unsure. Matt had grown up around beaches like these, this couldn’t be anything new.

Matt gave them a very dry look.

“You took me to the beach.”

“Yes.”

“For my birthday.”

“Yes?”

She was trying not to smile. Then, she kicked off her shoes and socks, and took off down the beach, leaving footprints among the seashells at the lower part of the shoreline, her hat flying off behind her. Pulling her dress off as she ran, she splashed into the waves and diving in, emerging seconds later, her hair stuck down and her rashie shades darker, grinning at them from the ocean. Toby shrugged at him, pulled his shirt off, and ran off after her.

After putting on more sunscreen (“I’m too white for this, Toby!”), Gray ran in to join them, where the waves were up to his waist. Matt was like a fish, diving underneath the waves and emerging after they broke.

“Jump in, Gray!” She called out to him when she emerged from a wave. “Stop worrying about ruining your hair!”

“I’m not worried about my hair!”

“Sure you’re not!” Matt’s head bobbed up and down with the waves. “Toby, you know what to do.”

Gray just managed to turn around before Toby tackled him. The two of them went down, and Gray made harsh contact with the seawater. His eyes burned and he struggled to breathe, but Toby let him up pretty quickly. Gray gasped for breath, wiping salt water out of his eyes. His fringe was now plastered to his forehead. He heard Matt cackling to his right as he oriented himself. 

This wouldn’t do.

Grinning to himself, Gray dove under the waves, swimming quickly and silently towards where he heard Matt’s laughter. Her legs were gently kicking herself upright, and Gray saw his opportunity. He wrapped his hand around her ankle and yanked it.

He barely heard her scream through the water, but he heard it all the same. Matt tumbled underwater, and she struggled against his grip. He let her go and emerged, grinning maniacally. Toby was doubled over with laughter.

“What was that, Matt? You sounded like a dying sheep!” He said, when Matt came back up.

“Gray, get Toby next.”

“Gray, don’t do that.”

But Gray was already underwater.

***

It was the most fun Gray had since, well, everything, since Carmen, and New Zealand, since an ambulance was called to come help a disorientated man who was bleeding and claiming that he didn’t know where he was (the ambos had assumed he was drunk, it was only when the nurse took a look at him did they realise that something was wrong). Gray and Matt’s splashing feud had turned into a splashing battle, and then into a full blown splashing war (only ending when Toby called for a splashing treaty). Soaked and giggling, the three of them wandered along the shore, Toby collecting seashells to bring back home, enjoying the midday sun their skin.

“Thank you.” Matt said, “For all of this. You guys didn’t have to.”

“It’s all good.” Gray replied. “I wasn’t sure if you’d like it.”

“Are you kidding? This beach is practically  _ empty _ . And it is stunning. Of course I’d like it!”

“I figured you went to the beach a lot, y’know, growing up in Byron and all that.” 

“You don’t get beaches like this is Byron.”

“What do you get?” Toby asked, arms full of seashells, “Like, what’s it like in Byron?”

“Well, the beaches were crowded, the food was expensive, the people were self-righteous, and Chris Hemsworth was a local cryptid."

"Did you ever meet him?"

"Nah, I don’t believe he exists."

"What the fuck do you mean, you “don’t believe he exists”?"

"I mean that he's a government hoax made up by Australia to increase tourism. Open your eyes, Toby. Have  _ you _ ever seen him?"

"Well, no."

"Exactly." Matt said finally. "You've been blind to the truth, Tobias."

"Did you like it there?" Gray asked her.

Matt looked down. "I loved it there."

“You must miss it a lot.”

Surprisingly, Matt shook her head. “No, actually, I don’t.” She smiled. “I’m glad I’m here. With you guys. Even if you are a furry.”

Gray hit her shoulder playfully.

“Come on, let’s go grab some food.” 

***

They were sitting on laid out beach towels, Gray’s baking skills having finally been put to the ultimate test (and judging by the fact that they were all taking second pieces, he’d say that it wasn’t all too bad), when Toby pulled an envelope out of his bag.

“Here,” he handed it to Matt. “From us two. Happy Birthday.”

Matt smiled as she took the envelope. “Thanks guys, you really didn’t have to.”

“Open it.”

Matt tore the envelope open, and slipped the card out. They watched as she opened it. Her eyebrows furrowed.

“What are these?”

“Read them.”

She picked one up. “You got me tickets… to  _ Sylvia _ ?” 

She was trying to look incredulous, but she was only barely containing her grin.

“We thought that you could go with your parents, but y’know.” Toby explained.

Matt had an indiscernible look in her eyes. “Thank you!’ She smiled at them.

“You’re welcome.”

Matt looked at the three tickets in the card. “So… do you guys wanna go with me?”

“You wanna take  _ us _ ?” Toby looked surprised.

“Well, obviously. You guys are, well, kind of my only friends here.”

“Wait, actually?” Gray gave Toby a vindicated look.

“Yeah! So, you guys coming?”

“Oh I dunno Matt, I’m not really one for long performances and-” Toby said, fighting, as Gray was sure he was aware, a losing battle

“Too bad, you’re coming!” Matt singsonged, “It’s my sleepover, I get to choose who goes to the ballet with me.”

“But ballet’s not really my thing…”

“Toby, we literally met in a ballet class.”

“Wait, you two did ballet?” 

“Back when we were younger.” Toby explained, “My mum pulled me out in Year 10, but I’m pretty sure Gray still does it.”

“No, I quit before I left. It’s one of the last things I remember.”

“Welp, that settles it.” Matt stated triumphantly. “You two are coming with me!”

Toby conceded with a sigh. Gray laughed to himself, taking a sip of his beer, and laid back down onto the sand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that this was mostly filler but also like, I love every single one of them?


	8. Gray, Babadook Chaser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio goes to the ballet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK guys from now on I'm changing the update schedule from every second day to once a week. It'll be easier to manage now that I'm back to my studies and it also gives me more time to work on and edit the chapter. I starting writing this fic to improve my writing skills, so I want to produce the best work I can.

Gray knew that Toby was only going for Matt’s sake, but he had a feeling he would enjoy it, regardless. Gray wasn’t sure himself, it wasn’t that he didn’t like ballet performances, but it was a little difficult to enjoy something that he’d had to work the lighting for 3 times already. Matt’s excitement, however, was palpable. It was all anyone seemed to talk about of late (which was probably caused by the fact that the three of them literally worked where they were staging it). 

Gray had managed to pull an outfit together (at least, one that Toby had approved of). It was what Toby had dubbed as his ‘nicest pair’ of jeans, dark blue and not worn down at the calves (which was apparently a big deal to high Sydney sensibilities, and also very confusing (“How the fuck do you wear them in at the  _ calves? _ ), and a grey dress shirt that Gray didn’t know he had, and was surprised still fit him (Ironically, the colour suited him). 

He did have to get a new pair of shoes, though, and he hated them. They were uncomfortable, annoying, and completely Toby’s recommendation. He considered himself lucky that he didn’t have to walk too much, the way they cut into his ankles. He wouldn’t be surprised if they could draw blood. But still, it was only one night. 

So, Gray waited, staring out a Sydney Harbour in the twilight. It was that pivotal moment in between the sky going dark and the ground lighting up, managing to bleach both effects. It wasn’t dark enough to turn the lights on yet, but not light enough to be able to see entirely clearly. People were moving all around him, Sydney Harbour was one of the places in the world that never stopped. Tourists were heading back home, parents were guiding sleepy children forward, or up into their arms, and stepping into the streams of people travelling up and down the Harbour, which gathered and shifted at each shop entrance. There were people heading down the street, as well, people heading into restaurants, or clubs, people dressed in richer clothes, people, like him, heading to the Opera House for an evening ballet. Already there were people at the entrance, replacing the specks of colour that the lights had not yet provided on the water, people in the bar. Gray knew that inside, in the bowels of the stage, there would be a flurry of supposedly organised chaos, as dancers did makeup, tied pointe shoes, held buns together with so much hairspray they’d be waterproof, as stage managers and techies fixed whatever unmitigated disaster was unfolding before the curtain went up. However, Out Here had no idea what was going on In There. Out Here was full of dignified people talking, rich women laughing their rich women laugh, people drinking champagne as they ate in the Opera House bar (“Getting  _ culturally _ drunk,” a lady once told him. “Not  _ beer _ drunk like you Australians get.” He like to think that he told her to go fuck herself, if he remembered anything about the interaction aside from that). People buzzing with pre-show excitement, and somebody sitting up on the roof. Everything moving. Everything-

Wait.

Gray squinted, trying to get a closer look at the silhouette perched on the roof, but he could barely make anything out amongst the faded white tiles. It looked like someone wearing a crown, except whatever it was had a  _ beak _ . He needed to get a closer look, he needed to-

“Gray!”

Gray turned around to see Matt and Toby walking up to him. He went back to look at the silhouette, but it was gone.

Must of just been a bird at a weird angle.

Never mind, then.

“Wow, Gray!” Matt said, taking in the outfit. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you actually look nice for once!”

“For once!?”

“Graham, you wear shirts with hoods that don’t match. You’re not exactly the epitome of style.”

The dress Matt was wearing was dark purple, shimmery, and reached just above her knees. She’d even braided up her hair, coiled up into a bun. She looked nice, so he told her that.

“Thanks!” She smiled, “Let’s head inside, shall we?

She lead the way inside. Toby fell in step with him as they followed. 

“These shoes are fucking killing me.” Gray murmured to him. 

***

  
The Opera House bar was warmly lit and bustling. They managed to find a spot by the window, miraculously, so they ordered drinks and waited, looking out over the steps and the street. Toby would occasionally wave to some of his coworkers, and they would occasionally stop to say hi, if just briefly. Gray looked up at the hanging lights, weird abstract little things spreading over the entire bar. He’d always liked them, they reminded him of chemical compositions from high school, or microorganisms. Admittedly, he never failed to see the appeal of this place, no matter how much he complained about these people. It was the reason he took his apprenticeship here in the first place. His parents hadn’t been happy about it, but he still took it. 

His parents hadn’t been happy with any of his career choices, anyway.

They weren’t in the country anymore. His dad got a job in Minneapolis somewhere in Gray’s lost time, and they’d lived there ever since. They flew in when the doctors had found him, and it was then, in that hospital room, that Gray realised exactly why no one seemed to know what had happened to him. 

“Graham, do you remember the last time we spoke?” His father had asked him gently, after the doctor had left. His mother was sitting beside his bed, holding his hand with both of hers. 

“It was Mum’s 49th birthday, I think.”

His mother had let out what could have been a sob, Gray didn’t know.

“That was 3 years ago.” His father’s voice was soft. “The last time we spoke to you, was around a month later, on Boxing Day.” He paused. “We had a fight. A big one. You stormed out, Graham, and we never heard from you again.”

“Until now.” His mum whispered.

“Until now.” His dad agreed.

It was at that point that Gray realised that he’d stopped referring to himself as Graham anymore. 

“Earth to Graham!”

Matt nudged his leg with her shoe. “We’re gonna go in now.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

***

“You know, Toby, it might’ve been my eyes playing tricks on me, but it seems you actually enjoyed that!” 

The lights were back on the harbour, bouncing off the water. The air was still warm, and there were people still all around them, talking animatedly about what they’d just seen. Gray overheard snatches of conversation, most of them happy, enjoying both the show and the warm night air on their skin, but others comments, made by whom Gray supposed to be the smarter of the lot, at least in their own opinions, were scathing critiques, on the dancers, the music, the costumes, the sets. Gray bristled slightly at a particularly nasty comment, but kept walking, anyway.

“Actually, yeah. I kind of did.” Toby admitted. “It was good!”

“Ha! I told you! I fuck-ing told you!”

“Yeah, yeah, ok Matt, you were right.” He conceded. “Ok, you can stop celebrating now, Matt. Oh, you’re... not stopping, are you.”

“Never! Vindication is sweet, dear Tobias!”

“Ok, ok, fine.” Toby shrugged. “I don’t know, it brought back memories.” He looked at Gray. “It kind of made me want to go back to classes.”

“Well, hey, I know a pla-” Gray trailed off mid-sentence.

The bird thing.

It was on a streetlamp, on the street above the Opera House, up the stairs to the Botanic Gardens.

And it definitely was  _ not _ a bird.

“You see it too?”

Toby wasn’t looking at Gray, but rather at the bird-not-bird-kinda-person-thing. Matt, picking up on their sudden unease, stopped.

“That’s gotta be the 5th time I’ve seen that thing.” Toby murmured.

“On top of the Opera House, earlier tonight?”

“Before then, too. I thought it was just a bird. I thought I was just seeing things.”

“Me too.”

“Guys, what are you talking about!?”

Toby pointed at the lampost. Matt’s gaze followed it, searching.

There was a brief pause.

“What the fuck is that!?

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

“I’m going to go get a closer look.”

“Gray, wait-”

It was as if Gray’s words were a signal, because the moment he said it, the figure took off, jumping from one lamppost to the next, and then into the Botanic Gardens itself. Gray didn’t think. He took off after it.   
  
Ignoring Matt and Toby’s calls, Gray ran across the street, avoiding confused passersby and getting stares from nearby tables. He bolted the stone stairs, two at a time and sprinted across the road with only a prayer that no cars were coming. He heard footsteps behind him, Matt and Toby had caught up, but he didn’t have time to say anything to them. The figure leapt out from an old fig to another, spooking leaves and bats alike. Gray pushed on, tearing through grass, cutting through the main field and onto the asphalt road. The bay on one side, the Garden on the other, he ran after the figure, ignoring the Machine’s excitement. Or was it  _ his _ excitement? He didn’t have time to figure it out. He kept following the figure, as it moved further down the gardens, the fig trees suddenly looming and eerie in the darkness, the Gardens losing all their warmth in the night and the emptiness.

_ “Kenopsia - that flat feeling you get when you see a normally full place empty. You know, like seeing an abandoned shopping mall.”  _ She was American, that was all he knew.

He followed the figure down the path into the rose gardens, the flowers all in bloom. The figure took a sharp right, jumping from the roof of the rose garden, to leaving the Botanic Gardens altogether, leaping back into the city. The three of them jumped up the stairs and followed it, tearing through the city, pushing past people and getting some dirty looks and angry shouts, but still they ran. The Figure took to the rooftops and the streetlamps. The Three of Them took to the footpaths and the alleyways, and so the two moved deeper into the city, away from the skyscrapers and the cityscapes, turning into smaller streets and smaller houses, cars lined up in the middle of the street and murals on the walls in between the houses. The Figure made a jump from a streetlight to a roof.

  
  


And stopped.

Gray ran into the alleyway and came to a dead end. All there was were a couple of garbage bags in an old box and a bike, leant up against the wall that stretched between the houses. He stopped, Toby and Matt tumbling in behind him.

“It’s stopped.” Toby said.

“I’m aware.”

“I still can’t see it from here.”

“I’m  _ aware _ .”

Gray’s heartbeat had long since made a home in his eardrums. The Machine was screaming, with delight or fear, he couldn’t say. 

He couldn’t think.

He moved backwards.

“What are you doing?” Toby asked. 

Gray didn’t respond, He sprinted towards the wall and jumped. Using the bike seat as leverage, he vaulted onto the wall, and climbed onto the roof. 

“What the fuck!” He heard Toby exclaim from down below, but he didn’t say anything back. The Figure was so close, he was nearly there. 

“Who are you and why are you following us?” he called out to it.

The Figure turned around, and in the faint glow of the streetlights, Gray saw a face. Well, a face wearing what looked kind of like a plague doctor’s mask. 

And a crown. 

_ What? _

But the eyes underneath the mask were wide, and staring at Gray, and it felt like he was being analysed, picked apart. And then the figure jumped off the roof. Gray ran to the other side, trying to see where it went, but it had disappeared. 

He lost it. Great.

“Gray! Are you alright!?”

“Yeah, I’m fine! I lost it though.”

Gray went back to their side of the roof. He was breathing very heavily, his stomach looping up and down, and his head was pounding. He looked down at them. The adrenaline from the chase, the Machine’s product, not his, was replacing itself with another kind, that which  _ was _ strictly Gray’s, because suddenly Matt and Toby were seeming further and further away.

Oh no. 

Oh shit.

He didn’t like this.

“Come down.” Toby called out. “Let’s get out of here.”

Gray felt his face pale. Matt must have seen it, because she called out to him next. “Just close your eyes, Gray. Don’t think about it, just jump!”

That was a lot easier said than done.

_ “Don’t think about it, Gray! Just jump!”  _

_ “That is a lot easier said than done!”  _

_ “Just do it! On three, ok?” _

He closed his eyes.

( _ 1 _ )

_ Holding on to rope, people all around him, her words still ringing in his ears, his faith in her the only thing keeping him moving. _

( _ 2 _ ) 

_ The wind howling in his ears, his thoughts reeling in his head. What the fuck was she doing here? _

( _ 3 _ ) 

_ Here. Now. A Sydney rooftop. People he knew. People he knew he could trust. _

He jumped.

  
  


The first thing he registered was that he screwed up the landing.

_ Really _ screwed up the landing.

“Ow,  _ fuck _ !” He keeled over.

“You good, mate?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Gray got up, his knees still screaming at him. He leant against the wall.

“Let’s get out of here.” Matt said. “Come on, someone will see us if we don’t get out of here.”

Walking back to the car took them longer than they expected, considering as they needed to figure out exactly where they were, in the first place. Once they had gotten back to the car, Toby opened the drivers side door.   
  


“Get in. I’ll drive you home.” He said, before he stepped in.

Matt took the passengers side. Toby started the car, and the three of them drove off in silence.

“So, did you see what it was?” Toby asked, after a minute

“It was human. They were just wearing a weird beak mask. And a crown.”

“How the fuck could any human move like that?”

“I don’t know… I think they had wings. Like, some weird tech stuff”

“Spooky.” Toby said. “We’re being followed by the Babadook, apparently.”

“Hey!” Matt said “Have some respect for a gay icon!”

“Wow. You really still remember that, Matt? You’re memes aren’t dank at all, they’re  _ stale _ .”

Matt gasped in melodramatic offense.

***

“Little King Crow, come in.”

Morgan was on a rooftop, looking down over Sydney. He did love the views from up high, and Australia did have it’s charms. Nobody ever saw him, from up here. It surprised him at first, how little people actually saw, but now it just made him smile. He wasn’t even  _ hiding _ , anymore. People were just that blind. 

“I had eyes on the target.”   


“And is it as we feared?” Dr. Bellum glared at Countess Cleo. 

“No. Cracker-”

“Crack _ le _ .”

“Crackle. There’s no sign that he remembers a thing.”

“Excellent.” Dr. Bellum mused. “It’ll be good to know for next time that I am  _ usually right  _ about this sort of thing.” She looked pointedly at the other people at the table.

“There was a problem tonight, though.” Morgan told them.

“Yes?”

“He decided to chase after me. Him and his two friends.”   
  


“Did they see anything?” Countess Cleo asked this time.

“No. Crackle only managed to get a glimpse. But I would look out for those friends of his. I was sure one spotted me multiple times.”

“Well, you ain’t exactly  _ inconspicuous _ , Crow-”

“That brings us to the next point.” Professor Maelstrom stepped in. “Our concerns about Crackle were only raised when reports came through that he was, well, using the skills that V.I.L.E. had provided to him. Is there any truth to those claims?”

“Y’know, I think they just might be.” Morgan grinned. His mask was pulled down, but his goggles were still on. “I’ve been watching the three of them, and there’s definitely something going on.”

Dr. Bellum’s smile faded slowly. “I see.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I think that we should bide our time, Crow.”

“Why?” Coach Brunt piped up. “You got somethin’ planned, Maelstrom?”

“I do, in fact.” Professor Maelstrom responded. “Let’s keep an eye on our little  _ trio  _ and their little plan, see how it turns out. It might prove… advantageous.”

“If you’re sure.” Coach Brunt sighed.

“Thank you, Crow.” Countess Cleo said. “Continue keeping tabs on the targets. But perhaps it would be advised that you get some better hiding places. We can’t risk Crackle seeing us too closely,  _ regardless _ of what Dr. Bellum  _ thinks _ .”

The call cut out before Dr. Bellum could respond. Morgan smiled to himself, before he put the mask back on.

Turns out he’d be staying a bit longer than he thought. Good. 

He did enjoy Australia. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gray has no fashion sense send tweet.


	9. Gray, in Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio makes their final preparations.

“So, should we be worried?” Matt asked. The three of them were in Toby’s apartment, and she was sprawled out on one of his couches, her feet dangling over one edge. He noticed her shoes, black ones with small heels. They’d left angry red lines where they’d dug into her feet, and he was surprised she had managed to run in them. 

“Well, we don’t actually know if they were following us.” Toby pointed out, leaning against the counter of the kitchen island. “They could’ve just been in the area the same time we were.”

Gray was on a stool at the island. “Wearing a beak, goggles and a crown?”

“Maybe they’re just into that?” Matt pointed out from the couch.

“They had wings. They could  _ fly _ -well, glide technically. Still, that’s a lot of tech for some jacked up furry. Or wing-y. Or whatever bird furries are called.”

“Ok, so they’re rich! That doesn’t mean that they’re after us.”

“Then why did they take off when I approached them, then?”

“Well, you did kind of start chasing them.” Toby argued, “You hardcore parkoured onto a roof. To be fair, I would run away too if someone started sprinting towards me.”

Gray looked down at the countertop. This apartment was one of the few things Toby let his dad buy for him, so it was a nice place, far nicer than his or Matt’s. Gray traced his finger down a vein on the marble countertop. Maybe Matt and Toby were right, maybe he was overreacting. Maybe the bird thing meant nothing. Why  _ had _ he jumped to a conclusion like that? Why was he so quick to think that the bird person had something to do with him? It was a big stretch. They probably were just running because he started chasing them, and he had chased the poor fucker through half of Sydney.

He was being stupid.

But then Gray shot up. 

“No, wait. That’s not right.” He said, “They didn’t run-or fly- off when I approached them, they ran when I  _ said _ I was going to take a closer look at them.”

“So?” Toby said, clueless, “Maybe they just didn’t want to be-”

But Matt cut across him.

“They heard you say-”

“They heard me say that from the Botanic Gardens, far away from us, on a crowded street on a busy night! How could they do that if they weren’t following us?!”

“How could they do that?” Toby asked. “That’s not humanly possible.”   
  


“Neither is having wings, Toby. We don’t know what kinda tech this guy’s working with, but we’ve already seen them  _ literally fly _ . Superhuman hearing would not surprise me at this point.”

“OK, so we should be concerned.” Matt said, “But what do we do?”

“Well, I think we should make sure they’re  _ actually  _ following us, for starters.” Toby stated. “Because I think that we should just leave them alone.”

“What?” Gray was incredulous. “You’ve been seeing this thing for weeks, and you think we should just let them keep doing that?”

“No,” Toby argued back, “I think that they’re either some innocent with a weird hobby, or someone incredibly dangerous who we should avoid like the plague. I just don’t think that we should just go around after them!

“But we have to make sure, Toby!” Gray argued back. “Just… I need you to keep a lookout for them. Tell us if you see them again, we’ll sort it out from there.”

“Alright.” Toby said, reluctantly. 

***

Gray would’ve liked to say that he was relieved when one week bled into two, then two to three, without another sign of “the Babadook” (“Have you ever actually even  _ watched  _ that movie, Matt?” “No, but he fits the aesthetic”). For some reason, part of him wanted the bird figure to show up again. Part of him wanted another question to answer, another trail to follow, another mystery to solve. He kept thinking back to it, to that night, playing it over and over again in his head. 

_ Maybe you like it. The thrill of the chase. _

The Machine was growing louder and louder in his head. It was almost like he was feeding it, letting it take bites from his chest until it was satisfied, and then lying back down when it asked for more. He was so used to its machinations at this point, that sometimes he could ignore that they were even there.

(That should’ve been the first sign that something was wrong. How had he not seen it?)

Because, as he lay awake in the early hours of the morning, he realised that lines were starting to blur. They were no longer  _ its _ machinations. They were his. The Machine and Gray weren’t separate entities anymore, no longer one being surviving on the other;

_ “Mutualism - a relationship between organisms in which both directly benefit from.”  _ The American girl, again.

No, now the Machine and Graham Marks were bleeding into one. It was only so long until it started mimicking (or was it controlling?) his movements completely. 

Until there was no distinction.

The thought terrified him.

He couldn’t tell Matt and Toby. 

_ You’re just using them, aren’t you? You don’t care about them anymore. _

No. That’s not true.

_ Are you sure? They’re just a means to an end for you, aren’t they? _

He cared about them. He cared about them more than anything.

_ Then why are you risking their livelihoods for your own gain? You wouldn’t be doing any of this if you  _ actually _ cared about them. _

No.

_ You asked Toby knowing he can’t say no to you. You knew you could use him, and you did. Now look what you've done to him. _

  
  
  


_ You can’t keep getting close to people like this. You always end up betraying them.  _

The worst part was that he didn’t even ask how it was so sure.

***

Gray’s mind (at least, what he felt was left of it) turned quickly from one major event to the other. December 18th seemed a lot closer this side of Matt’s birthday than before. All the pieces were on the board, he knew, all they had to do was move them. So he was wide awake as the night bore on, going over the plan again and again, feeling the Machine roar in his ears, and letting it settle in his ribs, rather than forcing it down, forcing it away. It was so much easier to move with it when it provided him with something. It was just another means to an end, that way, just Gray taking what the Machine provided. He could pretend, then, that he was in control of the situation.

He was both hyperaware and completely ignorant to the time passing, so November’s turn to December was as much of a surprise to him as it wasn’t. Everywhere, Christmas decorations were starting to go up, and the weather had taken a turn from ‘dry and hot’ to ‘dry and boiling,’ as Summer began to make its presence known. 

Gray had it down for the 4th, the Dress Rehearsal, as Matt had called it. It was simple, in retrospect. They wouldn’t be stealing anything, of course, Gray would blow a fuse or two, then fix it before anyone figured out that it was him who blew it. It was just to make sure that Gray was capable. But still, he woke up way earlier than usual. Staring at the ceiling, he didn’t even realise that he hadn’t dreamt at all that night.

They were running lighting checks for the Nutcracker. Apparently there was a problem with one of the scenes, the lights were too bright or too glarey or not ‘fitting the vision’ or whatever the problem was this time. The stage manager was in heated discussion with the lighting designer when Gray snuck off, on the pretense that he was going to the bathroom. He went in that direction, but walked straight past the bathroom, and into the theatre bar, then left the theatre altogether. Out on the steps, Gray walked through the crowds of people taking pictures in front of the House, people dancing on camera for a reason that he could not exactly fathom, kids chasing each other up and down. He moved from one sail to the other, then down the stairs again, to the foyer underneath, past the small cafe there, and then through the Staff Only door to the left of there. 

From here, it was a lot less plush, no purple accents and no fancy lounge cushions, only a set or cement stairs and fluorescent lights going down below to a heavy grey door. Gray shut the door behind him, and down the stairs he went, through the door, and then he was in a room full of circuit breakers.

All he had to do now was to figure out which one was the one he needed. He looked through all the switches, each one labelled with marker on tape, initials for each circuit. Gray looked through them. 

_ JSTF. _

Boom. 

Gray tripped it.

He couldn’t hear from his spot in the foyer if he hit the right one, or if it had any effect. He just gave it a minute, then flicked the switch back on again, and left the room. He hurried up the stairs, opening the door back into the foyer. 

And crashed straight into someone hurrying in.

“Shit!”

“Ack!”

Gray staggered back with shock.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I just came running in and I wasn’t watching where I was going it’s completely my bad!”

It was Amelia, the apprentice electrician. This was probably the most Gray had ever heard her say.

“Oh… no, it’s fine. I didn’t see you either.” Gray mumbled. Amelia was small, smaller than Matt, even, with curly hair, up in a bun at the top of her head. She could only have been a year or so younger than Matt was, and she’d only been working there for a couple of months. The thing about Amelia, however, was how she seemed to be in some form of perpetual motion. She would shrink when spoken to, with every word she got smaller and smaller. Maybe that was why the other lighting techs wouldn’t leave her alone. 

“Oh, did you already take a look at the circuit breakers?” Amelia asked, “They sent me down here to check it out.”

That didn’t surprise him. They sent Amelia running everywhere. That was the rite of passage, according to them. But they had already picked up on Amelia’s meekness, maybe they saw her shrinking too, so they pushed her even further than they’d ever pushed him, then they’d ever pushed anyone else, really. It wasn’t all of them, but there weren’t a lot of them, s o the few who did stood out glaringly.

“Um, yeah! Yeah, I did.”

“Oh! That’s good. I mean, it makes my life a whole lot easier. Even though-” She laughed awkwardly, cutting herself off. “Nevermind. Let’s head back!”

Normally he just would’ve let it slide. But something told him to make an effort to be nicer to her. She’d need it. 

_ Do you ever learn? _

“No, wait. What were you going to say?”

“Oh, it’s, it’s really nothing. Not important.” She laughed again.

“Really, tell me.”

“Well, it’s just…” Amelia seemed to rock back onto her heels a little. “I don’t see why they really bothered sending me here. Like, obviously a switch has been tripped, I don’t really see the point in confirming it, it’s obvious. I’m just-”

She was about to say something, but quickly stopped herself.

“You’re just, what?”

Amelia took a deep breath.

“I’m just sick of having to run around after them running fool’s errands for no reason!” She rushed out. “They don’t even listen to me when I talk to them and just end up wasting everyone’s time! I know I’m inexperienced, but I’m a good fucking electrician and I’m sick of being ignored!”

Gray was taken aback. Amelia, breathing heavily, covered her mouth.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful or anything-”

“No, no, it’s fine. You’re fine. You’re right, actually.”

Amelia stared at him, surprised. 

“They’re total dicks to you. It’s just how they are with newbies.”

“Really?”

They were walking back to the other theatre now.

“Yeah. They were like that with me, when I was an apprentice.”

“I figured it was some form of well, initiation.” She said, quietly “Y’know, testing my mettle and all that.”

“It is, technically. But it does kinda suck.”

“Yeah. It does. I just guess I’ll just have to stay around long enough for them to move on, huh.”

“Nah.” Gray shrugged. “I think you should tell them to get fucked. That’ll be a test of your mettle.”

Amelia giggled. “I’ll try that. Thanks, Graham.”

They were back at the main stage of the theatre. 

“The fuck have you two been?” One of the other electricians grumbled in their direction.

“I went to check the circuit breakers, like you sent me.” Amelia responded, again, somehow shrinking. “But Graham-”

“I was on my way back to the bathroom when the lights went out.” Gray cut her off. “I ran into Amelia as she was coming back.”   
  


He could feel the weight of Amelia’s stare, but he didn’t look back at her. He could feel the cogs in her mind turning, and he prayed to all the high heavens left that she got the hint. 

“Yeah.” Amelia said, finally. She had only paused for a second, but Gray had felt it drag on for a year. He thanked her, silently.

The electrician, (Jack, Gray was pretty sure), nodded, and got back to whatever he was doing. Amelia turned around (questions nearly bursting off the tip of her tongue), but Gray (not prepared to answer  _ any _ of them) figured it was his time to move.

***

“So, that blackout earlier was pretty freaky.” Matt said, suggestion a lilt on her tone. “I wonder what that was about?”

It was around 6 pm, and Gray had just finished his shift when Matt had weighlaid him in the foyer. She was in her uniform, tying her hair up as they talked, tucking stray strands behind her ears. 

“Yeah, it was.” He responded, taking a seat at her table. “Luckily I was near the circuit breakers at the time. I was able to fix it.” He smiled. Matt picked up on the implication.

“I see. What was the problem?” Matt was trying to sound innocuous. She wasn’t very good at it.

“Someone deliberately tripped the switch. Imagine!”

“Really!? Who would ever do that?” 

“I have absolutely no idea. They must have some  _ horrible _ plan in store, though.”

Matt laughed. Then, leaning in towards him;

“So, you had no problems?”

“No,” Gray said in an undertone, leaning in as well. He didn’t think that he needed to tell Matt about Amelia. She didn’t say anything when he lied in front of Jack, and she didn’t question him after (though, that might have been because he spent the rest of the afternoon sincerely avoiding her). Somehow, he knew that she wasn’t going to be a problem.

_ After all, you can make sure she won’t breathe a single word, can’t you? _

Gray ignored that last part.

“Good.” Matt grinned. “Should I tell Toby that we’re all set?”

“Yeah.” Gray couldn’t help but smile back. Matt had that effect on him. 

“Tell Toby it’s go time.’

It was only when he was staring up at his bedroom ceiling, trying desperately to quiet the Machine’s screaming, to get some control over his mind again, to push it down his throat and out of his lungs, that the weight of what he said finally set in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please believe that I know how basic electric circuits work.


	10. Gray, Robbery Performer Extrodinaire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Super Sydney Heist With Friends Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're finally here!!! I'm so excited for it!

Time seemed to change its tune when the heist was only around the corner. Suddenly, everything seemed to move faster. Gray found that he could look down and lose hours at a time, the last calm moments slipping away from him before he could properly get a hold on them. He wasn’t seeing things the same way either, images were missing details, he was having trouble remembering things that had happened only hours ago, like they were retreating backwards, back into smudged glass, back into the fog again.

The sole talent of Graham Marks, losing his memory when he needed it most.

His friends weren’t taking the wait any better, though. Matt was incredibly jumpy, spooked by small movements, constantly looking over her shoulder. Gray and Toby soon learnt not to approach her from behind. Toby’s hair lost its curl, hanging limper at the nape of his neck. He’d started stuttering, trailing off while talking, sometimes losing his entire train of thought altogether.

The three of them had gone through the plan more times than he could count, had run through every failsafe, every worst case scenario, the backup plans for their backup plans. But still, the air was so tense with nerves so new to them that they felt they could cut it. 

Amelia hadn’t questioned Gray about his actions after the blackout, and he was eternally grateful that he didn’t have to deal with  _ that _ situation. However, she had become extremely cold to him, avoiding him unless she had no choice, and speaking to him as little as possible. Every now and again though, he caught her staring at him, her brows furrowed, as though trying to figure him out. She glared slightly at him whenever she realised that he caught her looking, but it had little effect on him. It was like Amelia wasn’t at all used to conflict, and was very out of practice with it.

And so it turned from two weeks to one,

(That swooping feeling in Gray’s stomach had turned into a permanent fixture.)

From 7 days to 5.

(Matt’s skin was slowly losing all its colour.)

Then 5 days to 4

(Toby’s eyes were so bloodshot that they looked pink.)

To 3

To 2

The Wednesday night before the heist, Gray was in his apartment, staring at his phone, trying to distract himself, when the intercom buzzed.

“Hello?”

“It’s Toby.”

Gray buzzed him in. 

Toby was barely standing up. The bags under his eyes were stark, and he was swaying slightly, and Gray knew that he hadn’t slept in a very long time. He stared at Gray, almost apologetically. 

“I didn’t know where else-”

“I know.”

Toby came in, but he just stood there, awkwardly. Gray guided him to the couch and sat him down. 

“Are you ok?”

Toby barely responded, he just looked at Gray, slowly, his eyes slightly unfocused. Toby didn’t sleep when he was on edge. Gray remembered back in high school, when Toby was still living with his mother, when Toby would come to school looking like the living dead. He would often find him sleeping in the library, in between the aisles, tucked away in a section that he was sure no one would go near. Gray never questioned it at the time, after all, Toby in high school was just That Kid from his ballet class. But there was that one time, in a dress rehearsal, when Toby had hit the floor like a dead weight, and not come back up again. Gray couldn’t let that happen again.

“What’s up, Gray?”

“Come over.”

Matt paused

“Isn’t it generally polite to ask someone to dinner, first?”

  
“Toby’s here.” Gray lowered his voice. “He’s completely out of it.”

There was a pause over the phone.

“Let me guess, hasn’t slept in days, dead on his feet, nearly passing out?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m on my way. Give me about half an hour.”

Matt came with two bags and a pillow. Toby stared at her.

“I brought you a change of clothes, as well.” Matt said, resting the bag at Toby’s feet. “Grabbed your toothbrush and stuff.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re sleeping here tonight.” Matt stated, in a tone that offered no argument. 

“But… we need to… we need to go over the plan… just to be… just to be sure-” 

“No.”

“But, we need to! What if something goes wrong! What if something happens! I can’t.. I can’t…”

He was bordering on hysteria.

“No, you don’t. It can wait until tomorrow. Right now, you need to sleep.” 

“No! I can’t!”

Gray got up and grabbed a pile of spare blankets from his cupboard. 

“I can’t.” Toby’s voice had lost all its weight.

“Toby, you need to. Please, for us, at least.”

Gray gave a blanket to him. Toby looked reluctantly up at him. Gray wrapped it around his seated form. 

“C’mon, you need to sleep, mate.” 

Toby let Gray push him down onto the couch, and put a pillow under his head. Matt got up, and began to make them some tea. By the time she was back, with two steaming mugs in hand, Toby was fast asleep, his breathing slow, his fist curled tightly around the blanket, which he had pulled up to his chin.

***

Gray shot up the next morning, and the words had barely left his lips when Matt entered. 

“Morning.” She said, handing him a takeaway coffee cup. “Here.” 

The coffee was still hot. Gray took another sip.

“What time is it?” He asked her

“Just turned 7.”

He hadn’t slept until 7 in a long time. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I’m gonna go wake Toby up.”

“He slept well?”

“Like a log. It’s gonna be a bitch to get him up.” Matt said, a little pointedly. “The things I do for you two.”

Toby left for work earlier than Gray and Matt did, so they spent the rest of the morning going over the plan, and checking the failsafes, making sure they knew all the codes and signals. There really wasn’t much left to go over, they had everything down pact by this point anyway, but Matt decided to start throwing random scenarios at him, for him to improvise a solution to. They grew increasingly more outlandish, until they were heading off to work with an escape plan to a terrorist bio-attack and whilst still escaping with the goods. 

When they came back from work, they found Toby sitting in his living room, having found his spare key and running everything over again.

“I checked the storeroom.” He told them. “Everything good there.”

“I told you.” Matt said, sitting down next to him on the couch “No one goes in there, really.”

“Toby, you alright?” Gray asked him. Toby did look distinctly calmer. His eyes weren’t as bloodshot, and the bags had faded significantly.

“I should be.” Toby grinned, as he brandished Matt’s phone in the air.

Matt gawked, then patted her pocket for the phone that wasn’t there.

“Wha- How- When!?”

Toby laughed in response.

“Ok, so how long do you want me to keep the lights out for?”

“Until I give the signal.” Matt said. “Just make sure no one fixes the lights and we’re golden.”

“Not to be like, shitty or anything…” Toby started, “But I still feel like this is a terrible plan and we’re all gonna get caught.”

“I know.” Gray told him. “But, honestly, I just kinda wanna see it through at this point.”

“Hey, uh, quick question,” Matt asked. “What happens if this actually works. Like, what are we going to do with boxes full of stolen goods?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Let’s just make sure we  _ actually _ steal them first.”

Matt still looked unsure. “Ok, then.”

“So, should we go over it one more time?”

“I think we know it off by heart by now.” Toby said. “Let’s take a break. I wanna grab some food.”

“Yeah.” Matt agreed. “Can we go get Maccas?”

“Yeah. Can we?”

They both looked at Gray, childlike in their begging. He didn’t know when he became the deciding factor in this, but still. He couldn’t bring himself to deny them. 

“Alright. Let’s go.”

“Yeah!!” Matt cheered. “Midnight Macca’s run!”

“It’s like, 8pm.”

***   
  


“Man, I love Midnight Macca’s runs.” Matt said, through a mouthful of chips.

“Again, it’s not even remotely close to midnight.”

“It’s midnight in spirit, Tobias. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“It’s still 8:30.”

“ _ You’re _ still 8:30.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

“It means that you suck ass, Toby.”

“How dare you!”

Gray started to laugh, watching them from the passenger seat. 

“Stop laughing, Gray, this is a serious insult upon my person!”

He couldn’t help himself. He sat there, watching Toby and Matt argue in mock outrage, and laughed. Maybe it was the maniacal nerves boiling over, maybe it was the fact that these were his friends and it was the fact that they believed in him just as much as he believed in them. Maybe it was because he loved them dearly.

Maybe it was all three.

Matt threw a chicken nugget at him.

*** 

“All my friends are furries!”

“For fuck’s sake, Gray!”

It took Gray a minute to remember where he was. His living room ceiling swam into view. He was on the floor with a pillow and a blanket. His back ached (Why did he sleep on the floor? He had a bed! With a mattress!) Matt was glaring blearily at him from the couch.

“Sorry, Matt.”

Toby was on the couch above him, sleeping like the dead, as per usual. Gray checked his phone. It read 4:34.

Gray got up. 

“Seriously!?” Matt said, her voice still rough with sleep, as he got up and moved to the kitchen. “Go to sleep, Gray.”

“I can’t.” He told her. “Anyway, today’s the day, Matt! Better be up early, y’know. Grab a fully balanced breakfast. Should I bring some orange slices?”

Matt groaned into her pillow. “Fine. Just do it in silence, Gray. I’m going back to sleep.”

She burrowed back into her blanket. 

There was silence.

  
  
  
  
  


“Godamnit Gray, now I can’t sleep!”

Matt got up, and went to join him in the kitchen. She opened the fridge, and started pulling objects out. 

“Let’s grab some orange slices.” She said.

It was a couple of hours until Toby woke up. When he was up, dressed, and eating, Gray sat down at the kitchen table and turned to him.

“How’re you feeling?”

Toby swallowed, slowly, as if his throat was dry. But still he smiled at Gray. 

“Ready, I think.”

“Good.”

“Oh, Gray, that reminds me.” Matt said, rummaging through her bag. “I want you to have this.”

She slid an object across the table at him. Gray looked at it.

“A taser?”

“Yeah!” She said. “Just in case you run into someone during the blackout and need to cover.”

He stared at her, incredulous.

“Ok, that’s fine. That’s cool. Just a couple of quick questions, though. First of all; why the fuck do you have this? Second of all, What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?”

“Well, obviously, if you run into trouble, you can just knock them out!”

Gray sighed.

“Matt, tasers don’t knock you out. They just pump you with a shock that knocks you over.” 

“Wait, what!?”

“That’s just something they have in movies. It doesn’t happen in real life.”   
  


“Aww, what!” Matt whined. “That sucks! I wanted to knock someone out!”

“Again, I don’t think that you can legally have this.”

“Will you bring it, anyway?” Matt asked him. “Please? I’d just feel a bit better knowing you’d be able to defend yourself.”

Gray looked down at the taser. He probably wouldn’t need it, but still. He pocketed it. 

“Alright.” 

Matt smiled at him. “Thanks.”

***

Time seemed to be thrumming, moving in at a pace that was both too slow and too fast. By the time their shifts arrived, the adrenaline between the three of them was almost palpable. As they got out of Toby’s car and walked down the harbour, they had to swallow down their nerves and force themselves into some semblance of normality. Gray remembered the dancers, before a performance, the chaos going on inside, the normalcy on the outside. But still, the dancers perform. Still, the Machine moves and calls to him. And no one notices.

So, the curtain was about to rise. So, the three of them took their places. 

Like dancers. 

He did his job perfectly, everything on-cue, everything in place, don’t give anything away. His chest was aching with adrenaline. The first act came, and went.

It was intermission time.

The curtain rises.

The audience slowly filed out, some staying in their seats, and the crew rushed around, adjusting costumes and lights and sets. Gray, dodging through the people running around backstage, and left the theatre altogether. 

He had to be careful now. He couldn’t let people see him leaving. Moving quickly, Gray took the back route out of the theatre, left down one hall, cut through another. Act nonchalant, act normal. Don’t give anything away.

Gray walked out through the emergency exit on the side of the theatre, the wall of the Opera House towering over him, rows upon rows of tiles yellowed with age. Gray pulled his hoodie up, and kept moving. Calmly, but quickly. He didn’t have a lot of time. 

Back in the other theatre, Gray pulled his hood off, and headed into the foyer at the front of the House, just like before. Giving a quick wave to the girls working at the cafe, he opened the Staff Only door and stepped through.

Nonchalant. Normal.

_ Don’t give anything away. _

In the circuit breaker room. Gray stood by the switch, and took a deep breath. He prayed to any heaven left for Toby, for his sake, and in turn for all of theirs. He flipped the switch.

What if it didn’t work? What if someone, somehow figured out how to turn the lights back on? What if Toby got caught? What if they all got caught? He wished he knew what was happening. He wished he could hear anything, see anything. But instead he stood there, under the slightly sickly fluorescent lights, waiting, hoping. It was all in Matt and Toby’s hands now. He wanted some control of the situation. The Machine wanted some control of the situation. But all he could do was keep an eye out for anyone coming down stairs.

To which, he heard footsteps.

Shit.

Gray turned around, staring at the door, his hand reached for the taser, behind his back, as the footsteps grew louder and the door opened.

Dark skin. Messy bun. Small figure. 

It was Amelia.

“Hey Amelia! Just checking the circuit breakers!”

Amelia didn’t smile back.

“What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean? I told you, I’m checking the circuit-”

“You, mean, the one that’s currently switched off?”

Yeah. That one.

“Yeah! That one! I just got here, so thanks!”

The one thing Gray always prided himself on, before his lost years and still after them, was his ability to charm his way out of any situation. But somehow, he felt like it didn’t work on Amelia. For some reason, it made him think of Carmen (But he never thought he couldn’t charm Carmen (At least, he hoped he could charm Carmen.))

“Well, you can fix it then, right?” Amelia raised her eyebrow and folded her arms. She was cold, calculating, almost. It was a stark contrast from every other version of Amelia he’d known. This was the girl who didn’t do anger, who could barely intimidate a butterfly. What was this?

“I will. Why don’t you go on up ahead, ok? I’ll meet you out there.” 

Amelia didn’t move. 

“Graham. What’s going on?”

“Nothing!”

Why did this feel so familiar, trying to convince her? The feel of the taser in his hand, the look on Amelia’s face?

(The room is suddenly so much smaller. They’re moving. Why are they moving?) 

“Ok, fine then. Let’s review.” Amelia brought him back to reality with a startling jolt. “First of all, I come and find you in here for no reason, messing around with the circuit breakers, to which you give me some bullshit cover that you were there, fixing a blackout that  _ you _ probably caused. And  _ then _ you make up some bullshit response about going to the bathroom, when someone questions you, expect  _ me _ to go along with it, then avoid me. And now,  _ finally _ , we get to here, to when there is yet  _ another _ blackout and you are in the exact same spot as you were last time, doing absolutely  _ jack shit _ to stop it. So no. I don’t think nothing is going on here.”

He sighed.

“What do you want from me, Amelia?”

( “wants a truce. You can come home.”)

“I want answers.”

“Have you tried Yahoo?”

“Stop fucking with me, Graham. Tell me.”

“Oh, I’d love too, but sadly, no.”

“Why not?!”

“Because there is way more going on here than you understand!” Gray said, trying to keep his voice down. “Look, just stay out of my way. I have work to do.”

“No.”

“Seriously, Amelia, I-”   
  


“I don’t care what you want, I’m not moving.”

He had no choice. Gray pointed the taser at her.

“Don’t test me, Amelia, or you won’t like what I do next.”

Amelia laughed at him.

“Seriously Graham, a  _ taser _ ? That’s not gonna do  _ shit. _ ”

“It’ll get you out of the way. And it’ll hurt like a bitch.”

Amelia snorted. “And then what? I’m sure the cops would love to know why you  _ tasered your colleague _ . So go on then, hit me! I’m sure-”

Gray’s phone pinged.

The signal.

He looked down.

His mistake.

Amelia’s body slammed into his, winding him, and they toppled to the floor with a thud, the taser skidding out of Gray’s hand. Amelia lunged for it, and had it pointed at Gray before he could catch his breath.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t tase you to high heaven.”

“Because it’s generally polite to ask someone to dinner first?”

He wouldn’t have been surprised if Amelia tasered him right then and there. She looked like she wanted to, she desperately looked like she wanted to. But when he looked at her face, he didn’t see anger there, he saw something more, something deeper. Amelia didn’t look angry, and somehow she looked more dangerous than if she was furious. 

“No, wait, Amelia I-”

The taser slammed down next to his head. 

Gray flinched away, then looked up at her in shock.

“If I find out that  _ anyone _ up there has been hurt, I will smash in each one of your vertebrae before the cops even  _ think _ about coming to get you.” With that, Amelia left him there, under sickly fluorescent lights, the slamming of the door echoing around the room.

Gray didn’t have time to wonder why Amelia let him go, he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He needed to check his phone.

_ From: Mistew Pwime Ministwer _

He really needed to change Matt’s contact name.

_ Blackout in the foyer. can’t see shit _

That was the signal. Gray flipped the switch back up again.

_ omw _

He ran back to the theatre, pushing past people, catching a couple of stares, and hoping he just seemed like a techie trying to fix a lighting disaster. He prayed at least.

The theatre foyer was full of chaos, confused guests, ushers trying desperately to regain order, and Gray seized every minute of it, pushing through the confusion, making a beeline for the hallway, to the rendez vous with Matt in the storeroom, and then there hopefully out to Toby’s car, then home to safety. He felt like his very cells were vibrating, he had to remind himself, it wasn’t over yet they could  _ still get caught _ , in fact it was the most dangerous part of the plan he should be terrified why wasn’t he nervous and then wait why and there was a woman’s back in front of him. 

He crashed into her, full force, causing her to stumble forward a couple of steps. He barely had time to mumble an apology when she whipped around.

She towered above him, with dark skin and short hair, and if looks could kill, Toby would be giving his eulogy (it would be a very lovely eulogy, people would cry). Gray mentally prepared himself.

But then the woman’s eyes widened with shock, and…

Was that recognition?

Gray didn’t have time to discern her expression before it melted back into a scornful glare and the woman turned away from him, continuing to talk into her phone without another glance in his direction. No time to waste, Gray moved into the hallway, rushing into a maze of purple carpets and warm lights, all plush and soft and grandiose, remembering the directions Matt had highlighted for them too many times for him to count. Left, left, right, second left, middle door. 

Looking around to make sure no one was watching, Gray knocked four times, like a heartbeat. The door opened and Gray was pulled in. Plunged into darkness, he was a little disorientated. 

“What took you?”

“Ran into someone. Got held up. Everything good down your end?”

“Everything’s in the boxes.” Toby whispered. “How long until the cops are called, do you think?”

“It’s pretty chaotic out there, I think we’ve got time.”

“Speaking of, I should get back out there, they’ll be missing me.” Matt said. 

“Yeah, we should get going too.” Gray said. “I just came to check in.”

Gray opened the door, and he and Matt stepped out. Closing the door behind him, he looked around, and caught the eye of someone down the other end. The worker raised his eyebrow suggestively, and Gray suddenly realised exactly how this looked. 

  
“It’s a good alibi.” Matt whispered, as they walked down the hall. 

***

The minute the second act ended, Gray was gone. He was in the storeroom, emptying one of the boxes into his backpack by his phonelight, when Matt knocked on the door. He opened it, and she hurried in. 

“Toby already left. He’s coming to pick us up.” She pushed past him to the boxes, and began shoving stuff into her messenger bag. Once the boxes were empty, and their bags were a great deal heavier, Matt helped Gray put the fake bottoms back in, and they headed out, trying to move quickly, but not too quickly. Gray began to feel the nerves rising like a crescendo, and he kept swallowing down the urge to break into a run. The more time they stayed here, the more chance they had of getting caught. They would’ve finished the final curtain call by now. People would start to notice. But it was also excitement, as well. It was also a heart pounding excitement that made him want to laugh. The Machine, however, was quiet. Why was it quiet?

When he needed it most. Why?

Toby was waiting in his car, parked by the steps to the Botanic Gardens that Gray had run up a month ago, and he again felt the need to start sprinting. They walked there, as calmly as they could, and opened the doors. 

“All good?” Toby asked them, as Gray climbed into the backseat. 

“Yeah.” He told him, breathless with excitement. “All good.”

Toby started the car, and Gray began to laugh. He felt lighter than he felt in weeks, the excitement and the fear and the joy all mingled together in his torso, to create something he never remembered feeling before. The Machine was still silent, and he worried just a little, worried that the feeling in his abdomen  _ was _ the Machine’s doing, that it wasn’t his, that his emotions weren’t his own anymore, because he suddenly understood, in the back of Toby’s car, exactly why the Machine had taken over in the first place. He would do  _ anything _ to feel this again.

Maybe this was the beginning of the end. Maybe Gray signed his own death warrant. But, as they drove through the Sydney streets, he couldn’t bring himself to worry about that.

In the back of Toby’s car, Gray laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this the end of Act 1!!
> 
> I will be taking a break from updating for a while. I'm going to go back and fix up the earlier chapters, cause they aren't very good and could use some editing. I wanted to make sure that we got past the robbery before I went back.


	11. Gray, in Conflict

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back!  
I've got a pretty hectic day tomorrow so I decided to upload this early to make sure it got up. It's a little bit shorter than the others, I hope you guys don't mind.

“So, what do we do now?”

Gray was snapped out of his reverie. They were waiting at traffic lights, and Matt turned around to look at him. 

“We keep our bags separate, until we figure out what to do with them.”

“Ok, but what do we do with the stuff? We can’t just keep stolen goods lying around.” 

“Well, we need to figure out a way to sell the stuff off without alerting anyone.” Toby said, as the lights changed. “You know any black market sellers, Gray?”

“Why would I know any black market sellers?”

“Because you planned this!” Matt burst out, incredulous.

“Well, I didn’t plan it this far!”

“Well, uh, maybe you should’ve done?” She said, her voice dripping with venom. “Because I am not risking everything I’ve just because you can’t get your shit together!”

“Look, let’s just calm down.” Toby said. “Just keep each bag like Gray said, until we figure out what to do with them.”

“So we keep bags of stolen goods in our apartments, putting the  _ entire  _ plan in danger, because Gray doesn’t  _ know what to do with them? _ ”

“Look, I’ll figure it out!” Anger was starting to seep into Gray’s voice. “Y’know, Matt you could  _ actually _ come up with your own goddamn plan for once! Because, need I remind you, I’m the one who planned this whole fucking thing!”

“Oh, poor you, having to plan a heist that was  _ literally  _ your fucking idea!”

“Well, gee, Matt, I’m so sorry that you can’t be fucking assed to come up with anything for yourself. Please, continue to rely on me for all you fucking solutions!”

“Excuse me?!” She turned around to glare at him viciously. “You better get that stick out of your fucking asshole, mate, because all you would be without us is some useless prick wandering around whining about his fucked memory!”

“Matt, come on, that’s too far…” Toby’s voice was feeble.

“Oh, what’s he gonna do, go running off to Carmen?!” 

“No, guys, stop.”

“You are one to fucking  _ talk _ !” Gray snapped, his voice rising. “ _ I _ don’t recall fucking my life up so bad I had to run off to a different fucking state! At least  _ I _ can take responsibility for my  _ own fucking actions _ , Matt!”

The car went silent. Eerily silent. Gray had touched a nerve. 

“Well at least,” Matt’s voice was trembling with rage. “I managed that without become a complete fucking mental-”

“ _ Shut up! _ ”

The tone of Toby’s voice shocked them into silence.

“This is getting us nowhere.” He said, in a voice that permitted no argument. “We will figure it out. I will take you two home, and we will talk about this later!” 

Matt slumped in her seat, facing the window. 

They spent the rest of the car ride in a very tense silence, and when Toby dropped him outside his apartment, Matt reached behind her and slammed the car door hard behind him. He didn’t even look back at her, just hiked his bag up and walked away.

When he was back in the apartment his anger began to soften a little. Matt had a point, and he  _ had _ gone too far, bringing up Melbourne (Matt never talked about it, and he suspected there was a good reason for that). Maybe he should apologise. Maybe he should call her. 

_ She won’t respond. _

He should just apologise

_ Why? It’s her own fault.  _

He held his phone in his hand, considering. She would let it go if he called her. If he apologised. He should apologise. Just let go of his pride and call her. 

His finger hovered over the button. 

_ “What’s he gonna do, go running off to Carmen?” _

Gray couldn’t pretend that that hadn’t stung. He couldn’t ignore the anger that rose inside him when he remembered it. But he didn’t want to fight with her, though. He really didn’t. 

He just had to call her. 

He pressed the button. 

_ … _

_ … _

_ You’ve reached Madison! Please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as I can! _

Gray should’ve known that she wouldn’t pick up 

***

Matt wasn’t talking to him. Gray accepted that. He hadn’t seen her all day, but Toby had joined him on their lunch break, and the look on his face told Gray everything. 

“I’m guessing Matt won’t be joining us?”

Toby looked down.

“She’s still upset.”

“Of course she is.”

“Can you just-”

“No.” Matt’s refusal had driven away his guilt about what he’d said to her. He knew that he would have to give in at some point (he was the only one who would), but every time he thought about it his chest coiled up, like wire bending under pressure

“Mate, come on.” Toby said, tiredly. “I don’t… we really can’t be fighting right now. We need to stick together.”

Gray understood.

“You don’t have to stay with me, Toby, I don’t mind. But I’m not apologising just because she’s too petty to do it herself.”

Toby flinched slightly at the insult. 

“Because, well, maybe…” He trailed off, “Nevermind. It’s not important.”

“You think she’s right, don’t you?”   
  


“No! No! It’s not that I think you’re wrong or anything!” Toby assured him, hurriedly. “It’s just… well… you both have good points, but…”

“Toby, just say it.”

“We do need to figure out what we’re going to do with the bags.” Toby said in an undertone. 

“I still don’t see why this seems to be so difficult! Look, why don’t we just take them out of town and pawn them off?”

“Sure, but which town? And how would we get them there? I don’t really think “nearly 2 bags of stolen goods” is something that we can declare at customs.”

“We’ll drive them there. Look, I told you guys I would come up with something and I will. Just trust me, alright? I know what I’m doing here.” 

Toby looked apprehensive, but Gray knew that he didn’t want to push the matter. “Ok, ok, if you’re sure…”

The silence was only a little bit uncomfortable. Toby fidgeted. Gray knew he hated uncomfortable silences, regardless of magnitude, so when he left to ‘go to the bathroom’ and didn’t come back, Gray wasn’t surprised.

He went back to work, but it was mainly cleaning up, menial tasks. Move this here, put that back. Everything in its place, like it should be. It was nearly the end of the year, and everyone was looking forward to a break, not to mention the definite feel of Christmas that permeated the heat. So it was no surprise that everyone was a little cheerier than usual (even Amelia, who was back on her ‘staring and glaring’ regime, seemed to lighten up with the mood). It was all fairly uneventful until, when he was taking an errant prop back to its respective storeroom, someone called out for him.

“Graham!”

He turned around. Approaching him with a sense of finality that was strictly hers, was Beth. 

“Have you seen Toby?” She asked, without greeting nor pretense. “He hasn’t come back from his break.”

“I saw him during break, but he left halfway through. What do you mean he hasn’t come back?”

“I  _ mean _ ” Beth said, exasperatedly. “That it’s been 2 hours since his break ended and he’s  _ not here _ . I’ve tried calling him but he won’t pick up. Do you have  _ any _ idea where he might be?”

“N-no. None.”

Beth swore under her breath.

“Shit. Well, if you see him-”

“Yeah... yeah… I’ll send him over.”

Beth walked off, determined, leaving Gray feeling like something in his chest had frayed. Toby wouldn’t leave work for no reason. Even if the situation between the three was tense. He set the prop down and called him.

_ This is Toby, leave a message. _

His phone was off. Or out of service.

“It’s Gray. Beth just told me you didn’t show up. Where are you?”

***   
  


Gray tried to put the thought out of his mind. Toby probably needed some time alone. Conflict always made him uncomfortable. Still, this was weird. Where had he gone?

He took the prop to the storeroom and got back to work, trying to ignore the strange jagged creature that was growing in his head. Toby was an adult. He could go where he wanted. But he wouldn’t just leave Gray without an explanation. He wouldn’t just disappear.

_ Where are u???? _

_ Dude seriously. People are worried _

_ Are u ok?  _

But Toby never replied. His phone went straight to voicemail. And Gray didn’t hear from him for the rest of the day. Gray knew he was being paranoid, but he couldn’t shake the uneasiness, the shape of the word, the feel of it. It had taken up residence in his brain and wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. He needed to know that Toby was alright. 

He needed to call Matt. 

Gray didn’t want to have to confront her right now. In fact, he didn’t have to talk to her at all, really. But he felt like his chest was constricting and he didn’t know why. He called her.

_ … _

_ … _

_ … _

“Gra-”

But Gray put down the phone before she could even finish. He barely even felt the movement. A band had just been pulled tight around his heart. 

They were there. Walking into the theatre. Asking to speak to whoever was in charge. Just two of them, but it could have been a million, hundreds upon thousands crawling in, like ants. Crawling up his spine. Into his mouth. Down his throat. An infestation. His chest tightened in on itself. A metal bar where his ribs should have been. Gray looked around, struggling to breathe.

He saw Amelia. Across the room. Their eyes met. 

_ Nonchalant. Normal. _

_ Don’t give anything away. _

Her eyes widened. She’d figured out why they were here, why Gray was so panicked, and, somehow, it managed to calm him down. He forced his breathing to return to normal. He couldn’t afford to draw suspicion to himself. 

The cops were here. 

Toby was missing.

And the cops were here.


	12. Gray, Oscar Worthy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cops show up. Gray is forced to think quickly, and Amelia comes to a decision.

“Everyone,” Beth announced, her voice grim. “The police have received reports of multiple robberies on guests during last night’s show. Due to the nature of the crimes, they have opened up an investigation into those who were on staff last night.”

There was a rumble throughout the bar, exclamations and conversations scaling from shocked to horrified. Gray had already heard this speech,  _ his _ manager had told them all with that exact same expression, and they responded in the exact same fashion (he was quite proud of his own shocked facade, but playing dumb to his own actions was a skill he had taught himself at a very young age). 

“Nobody can leave whilst the investigation is ongoing.” Beth called out, over the noise. “If anyone has  _ any _ information, please speak to Officers Maxwell and Blake as soon as possible. Thank you.”

She then left to speak to one of the officers, leaving the bar in a faint pandemonium. Gray was sitting at a table in the now empty bar, trying to read, trying to act concerned but innocent, keeping watch for something,  _ anything _ , that might be a signal for him to run (not that he’d get very far, with everyone as on edge as they were). He had reread the same paragraph around 3 times, and was trying to go in for the 4th, when someone grabbed his arm. 

“We need to talk.” Amelia told him, “Come on.”

Gray immediately understood 2 things. 1. That Amelia had absolutely put two and two together on the whole ‘taser in the circuit room’ incident, and, 2. that sneaking away with her to talk about the whole ‘taser in the circuit room’ incident would absolutely make the two of them look incredibly suspicious. But he was already on thin ice with her, and there was still the harrowing possibility that she might turn on him. He really wasn’t in any position to refuse her. So, he let Amelia drag him off.

“Hey Graham~” She started, in faux innocence, when they were alone. “Do you remember what I said to you last night, in the circuit breaker room? You know… the part where I told you that if I found out you had hurt anyone up there, I would  _ smash your vertebrae in _ ? Do you?”

She had taken him to a secluded corner of a secluded stairwell. If Gray looked out over the other side, he could see the tense machinations of the bar below, but they couldn’t see him. He fought off the urge to roll his eyes.

“ _ No _ , Amelia, your  _ charming _ skill in the art of conversation  _ must _ have escaped my-”

“Did you have anything to do with the robberies, Graham?” That cold tone of hers was back. It was a little unsettling, watching her demeanor change like that. It was like watching a chameleon, one minute, she was shy and meek and small, but, next second, before his eyes, she was staring him down with enough cold ferocity that he almost felt an urge to step back. Gray looked around, checking to see if anyone was nearby, before responding.

“I think you already know the answer to that question.” 

Amelia’s face fell in realisation, before it contorted in anger. She buried her face into her hands and let out a groan. “Stupid!” She cried, “ _ Stupid! _ I cannot fucking  _ believe  _ you, Graham!”

“Keep your voice down!” He whispered hurriedly to her, before she alerted anyone to their conversation. 

“And I  _ let you go _ ! Ugh! How could I be so  _ dumb _ !”

“Amelia, stop. You’ll blow our cover!”

Amelia looked up at him, incredulous.

“Seriously!?” She snapped at him, in an undertone. “ _ Seriously!?  _ Give me one reason why I shouldn’t go to the cops  _ right now _ !?”

“Because… you like me?”

Amelia groaned again.

There was silence between them for a few, tense beats, wherein Gray desperately wondered if his absolute inability to not be a smartass for 5 minutes had gotten him into one of the worst situations of his life. Amelia slowly raised her head out of her hands, coming to a decision. 

“Okay,” She said. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’ll cover for you-”

Gray breathed a sigh of relief.

“But then we are going home and you are telling me  _ everything _ .”

Gray really didn’t want to say yes, but he really didn’t have a choice. Telling Amelia the whole story would involve telling her that Matt and Toby were in on it too. If he told her, she might go to the police, and they’d all be screwed. But if he didn’t, she would  _ absolutely _ go to the police and they’d all be screwed. He knew what he had to do.

“Ok. Fine.”

Amelia looked like she was about to say something, but they were interrupted.

“Ms. Diallo. Mr. Marks. We’d like a couple of questions, please.”

A sickening wave of cold threw itself through his ribs, to the point that he could feel it pinpricking on the back of his neck, could taste it, bitter in his throat. The two officers were different from the ones who had come into the theatre earlier, but he supposed that there was a lot to get through. And such a high profile case, he was surprised that the entire force wasn’t here at this point. He needed a game plan. He needed to think quickly.

“Oh! Yeah, uh, sure. Of course.” Amelia got out, looking like she always did when talking with someone she didn’t know well. Gray grabbed her arm and, throwing caution to the wind, gave her a carefully constructed comforting smile. 

“Follow us, please.”

As they followed the officers down the stairs, Gray brushed his hand against Amelia’s, and she looked up at him in surprise. Behind the officers backs, he raised his eyebrows. Amelia’s face fell into sudden understanding, before she looked straight ahead. 

They were in their places.

Curtain going up.

***

  
They questioned Amelia first, in a now empty dressing room. Gray waited outside, with another officer, one of the ones who he had first seen. The officer was young; barely a couple of years older than Gray himself, with prominent ears and a mess of curls. He didn’t look remotely intimidating, Gray noted, as they stood there. He would have found him kind of cute, had he not been silently praying to every god that Amelia hadn’t changed her mind about covering for him. The Machine, to, was starting to shift in discomfort, pulling away from its ports in his ribcage, the only reminder of its existence being the sickeningly frigid regret that was pouring in like syrup, where it had once been. He was going to get caught. Matt was going to get caught. Toby was going to get caught. Toby,

Toby.

Toby, who was going to be a prime suspect, if he wasn’t one already. Toby, who was only in this situation because Gray had put him there. Gray, the one who had planned the whole thing. Gray, who had taught Toby to pickpocket, knowing the consequences and deciding to ignore them, and it was Toby, wherever he was, who was going to get the brunt of the punishment. How could he have not realised that? 

Their conversation in the storeroom had changed its focus, suddenly, everything felt different. It felt like Gray had seen the entire world wrong before, and only now, when it was too late to fix his mistakes, did he truly understand. 

Toby knew this was going to happen. He knew, back in Gray’s apartment, when he’d agreed to this whole thing in the first place, how it was going to end. And he agreed because he was bound to Gray, because he could never deny him. And Gray had used him. And Gray had destroyed him.    
  


Gray wanted to cry. 

But that would’ve given it away. He had to keep calm. 

Nonchalant. 

Normal.

Several minutes passed before the door opened, and Amelia stepped out, alongside an officer. She gave Gray a small smile before walking off again. 

“Mr. Marks. Come in.”

The dressing room was well lit. Someone had placed a foldable table in there, at which one of the officers were sitting. A voice recorder was on the desk. 

“Is this an official interview?” He asked.

“No.” Officer Maxwell, he believed, replied. “But we’d just like a record for reference. Sit down, Mr. Marks.”

He sat down at the other side of the table. Officer Blake, a muscular blonde woman of around 50, sat down next to Officer Maxwell. 

“Ok. Let’s get started.” She said, “Could you please tell us your full name, age, and address?”

“Graham Adrian Marks, I’m 23 years old and I live at number 19, Boundary Street, Darlinghurst.”

“Alright.” Officer Blake said. “Where were you at 8:20 pm, last night?”

Gray looked confused. He knew exactly where he was, but telling Officer Blake that he was in the circuit breaker room at 8:22, tripping the lights right on schedule would probably cause more problems than it solved. 

“During the intermission.” Officer Maxwell explained. 

“Oh. Right.” Gray ran his fingers absentmindedly over a dark stain on the table. “I was in the circuit breaker room.”

“Ah.” Officer Blake said, knowingly. “You see, Mr. Marks, Ms. Amelia Diallo tells us a similar story. She says that she met you there. Is that true?”

Gray leaned back in his chair, feigning enough calculated confidence to make it real.

“Yeah. We met there. Why?”

“What were you two doing down there?”

He smirked, “Y’know, I don’t really think I need to spell that one out for you.” 

Officer Blake’s eyes narrowed, and Gray knew his plan was working. 

_ _

“And you two were there during the blackout?” Officer Maxwell continued.

“We didn’t know that there was a blackout until after.”

“Ok. So you didn’t leave until after the blackout?”

“The lights were on when we got out, yeah.”

“So why do we have an eyewitness account of you leaving a storeroom around 8:45 pm with another woman?” Officer Blake demanded. “One, Madison Wells, I believe?”

Gray added just the slightest hint of shiftiness into his demeanor. 

“Oh, you mean Matt? Well, uh, she’s my girlfriend.”

Both of the officers’ eyebrows shot up. “And I’m guessing that Ms. Wells doesn’t know about your ‘relationship’ with Ms. Diallo?”

“No, and I’d prefer if it stayed that way, Officer.”

Officer Blake’s lips pursed tight. “So, during the blackout, you were in the circuit breaker room, ‘meeting’ with Ms. Diallo. Then, minutes after leaving, you go to your girlfriend, Ms. Wells, in the storage room. Is that correct?”

“Pretty much.” Gray shrugged, smiling. Officer Blake’s eye twitched slightly. 

“Alrighty then.” Officer Maxwell stepped in, because Officer Blake looked like she wanted to punch him, “Just a couple more questions for you, Mr. Marks, then you can go.”

“Sure.”

“Have you heard from Mr. Toby Mirais, recently?”

Gray paused. It was Toby’s ass on the line if Gray fucked this one up. He decided that honesty was the best way to go.

“Yeah, I saw him during our lunch break, earlier today.” 

“We have reports that Mr. Mirais didn’t come back from his break.” Officer Maxwell told him. “Did you see him at any point after that?”

“No.” Gray responded, honestly. He didn’t like the look on Office Maxwell’s face. He was starting to feel uncomfortable with the whole situation. Gray kept up his air of nonchalant arrogance, though (the rich douchebag  _ was _ always his go to act. It had so much opportunity).

“I see. You’re quite good mates with Mr. Mirais, aren’t you?” Officer Maxwell had a far more easygoing air to him, with a beer belly and a warm smile.

“Yeah.”

“Have you noticed anything… strange about him lately?”

“No.”

“No? No sudden change in personality? No sudden strange interests?” 

“No.”

“Nothing about him that concerned you?” He was starting to grow more insistent.

“No, nothing!”

“No suspicious activity? No-”

_ “No!” _

Officer Maxwell sighed, drawing back. He looked harrowingly disappointed, but Gray still had the feeling that his answers hadn’t changed anything. 

“Thank you, Mr. Marks, that will be all.”

“Thanks.”

He left, part of him desperately trying to control a fresh wave of panic, the other praising wherever he learnt how to act like that. 

  
  


_ (“It is not fair, the best actor is the one who has no need for it.” _

_ “Hey, what about that guy who only speaks in mime? _

_ “He does not count.”) _

_ _

No, that wasn’t true. He wasn’t the best actor. (How did he know that?)

_ (“The best liars are the ones who always make themselves look like bad ones. Remember that.”) _

He wished that this would all stop. He wished that the voices and the fog and the Machine and everything he didn’t know would just  _ stop _ , and that it would just be him with his own head and memories that were his own. He wished that he could wake up without a pounding headache, wished that he could enjoy the dawn for once and he wished that moments of a life that wasn’t his but most of all he wished for that feeling, back in Toby’s car, before his fight with Matt, and the police and everything, when his mind had finally  _ finally _ gone quiet but that was gone, that was all gone. 

His head was starting to hurt, sharp and stinging, like a needle being pierced into his hairline, feeling strangely sweet and heady in his mouth. He moved down the backstage hallways on muscle memory, running his hands through his hair. 

He turned a corner into another hallway, only to see Matt coming his way. She barely even looked at him, nor he her, but as they drew closer he realised: The police would want to question Matt too. He needed to tell her what was going on. 

He stepped just slightly closer to her, so that they brushed past each other. 

“We’re dating.” He told her, in an undertone. 

She paused, and turned back to look at him, incredulous. “What?”

“Are you Madison Wells?” A voice rang out from the other side of the hallway, causing Matt to jump, slightly. It was the cop that Gray had waited outside with. He even sounded mild mannered. 

“Yes?”

“Come with me, please. We just have a few questions for you.”

Matt gave him an indescribable look, and he nodded. She followed the officer down the hallway, and Gray kept walking. He didn’t stop until he was at an empty stairwell, where he collapsed down onto a step, letting his head fall into his hands. It was still pounding. 

He felt nauseous. Any minute now, Matt could slip up and incriminate them all, Gray could’ve slipped up and incriminated them all. Every second the cops were there the two of them were walking on a minefield. Matt and Gray were one misstep away from sudden doom, and Toby wasn’t there. 

Toby. Gray felt another wave of nausea. 

And strangely, anger.

Where was he? He was compromising everything, they already suspected him, and he was forcing them to cover up for him? How could he be so selfish?  _ Where was he? _

_ See. You can’t trust anyone. They’ll all end up betraying you.  _

Ah. The Machine was back. Gray didn’t have any qualms about letting it in this time.

***

There were reporters outside, by the time dusk had fallen, gathering in the heat like flies to roadkill. The word had gotten out, and Officers Blake and Maxwell had to leave surrounding a buzzing swarm. It was notably hot, even for the season, and sweat was beading down Gray’s neck. Minutes after stepping out of the Opera House’s cool, collected air conditioning, and his shirt was sticking at his armpits. The collar had stuck itself itchily to his neck, but sweat was still trickling down his back. Gray ran his hands through his hair, trying to wipe away the perpetual damp gathered at the nape of his neck, grateful that he didn’t have a fringe anymore. 

The cops hadn’t found anything, or at least, nothing pressing enough to warrant further questioning, and they had finally been allowed to leave. Matt had obviously held her ground. He had dodged a bullet. And his heart was still pounding from it, a combination of sickening fear and elevated giddiness. He sat there for a minute, on the steps of the Opera House, processing. The cement had cooled somewhat when the sun had set, but he could still feel it on the back of his legs. He had dodged a bullet. 

He tried to call Toby again. No response, but he didn’t expect anything less. 

He needed to apologise to Matt, Gray realised. They couldn’t be fighting right now, not after everything that had just happened. And she might have some idea where Toby had gone. He needed to swallow his pride. 

He called her.

_ … _

_ … _

“What.”

“I wanted to apologise for-”

“Do you know where Toby is?”

Guess she was still mad at him. Even after all that, she was still mad at him. 

“No. I was about to-”

“Great. Fucking great. Cause I’m right by his car and he’s not here. He was supposed to-”

“Wait, his car’s still there?”   
  


“Yeah, dipshit, that’s what I- what the fuck!-”

Matt’s voice cut out suddenly. 

“Matt?”

Through the phone there were garbled noises, thumps, like clothes being hit against the ground and feet being dragged, a door was slammed, voices could be heard, muffled and indiscernible. Then a yell. A thud. And the call cut out. 

“Matt!”

He stood up, his phone pressed so hard to his ear that it hurt. She was by Toby’s car. He had to get to Toby’s car. Gray barrelled down the stairs, around the reporters. Took a hard right, down the stairs to the lower footpath of the Harbour, down the stairs to the parking lot itself. 

It was somehow even hotter in the parking lot than above it, but the sweat down his neck felt colder than ice. He spotted Toby’s car at the other end, and wove, quickly as he could, through the cars to reach it, and Matt, he hoped. Matt, who would still be mad at him, who would glare and tell him that he’d freaked out over nothing. Even like that, he would get on his knees and beg for her forgiveness, as long as it meant that she was fine. He couldn’t lose another friend.

But she wasn’t there. 

Confirming what Gray had known since he’d called her, but forcing him to admit it. She wasn’t there. She was gone, too, and suddenly Gray found that he couldn’t breathe. Matt was gone. 

All that was left was a pair of tire tracks on the concrete. 

And her phone, smashed beyond repair. 


	13. Toby, and the Unofficial Guide to Pre-Death Thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A proposition is made.

Admittedly, he did not expect it to end up like this. 

As a general rule, he tried his best not to be the morbid one, but it wasn’t as if he hadn’t thought about it. It was like a menagerie of sorts, an exquisite collection of every single scenario that ended with him, Toby, in a coffin. Car accidents, murders, terrorist attacks, for a while he was sure it would be suicide, but he tries not to talk about that. Sometimes he’s putting his life on the line for another, protecting an innocent, and his funeral procession is surrounded with media attention and medals and awards. Sometimes he doesn’t even get a funeral, sometimes he doesn’t even get a burial. Regardless, Toby was dead, every single time. 

Staring into inky blackness of a cloth bag never really appeared on his list, but perhaps it should’ve done. Because that’s where he was right now, with his hands tied behind his back, and then to a chair, his feet were free, he noticed, and had the slightest reprieve of knowing that his kidnappers and definitely would be murderers had left a huge opening for Toby’s escape.

Not that he would be using it. No, Toby was absolutely gonna die here. 

  
But for someone who was facing his near death, he felt surprisingly calm. And surprisingly not dead, which is probably why its referred to as ‘near-dead’ and not just ‘dead.’

Very smart, Toby. Brilliant observation.

But what was someone supposed to do when dying? Was there a rulebook? There should be a rulebook, some set of requirements you had to fill before you could die. Toby had been told that he had failed many things in his life, he really didn’t want to fail at dying. He felt that would be too cruel a joke of the universe. 

Weren’t you supposed to think about your family? Your friends? Your loved ones? What was there to think about? He thought about sitting on his father’s knee, an entire night sky he had never seen before in the city, as his father told him stories from his childhood. Toby didn’t realise that his father didn’t want to raise him in Sydney back then, but his mum had put his foot down. They had opportunities here, she had said, but it was never about them. But Toby didn’t want to think about his mother now. 

He felt that would be a waste of a thought. 

Instead he thought about Bertie. She was only 12, too young to lose a brother, to young to grieve for something like that. He remembered reading to her, under the covers with a torch, when their mother had gone to bed. He used to call her ‘Bertie Botts,’ just to make her laugh. Harry Potter had always been her favourite. He was still the only one she would let call her that. He wondered what the funeral would be like for her, if there ever was one. Why hadn’t he come over more? Why hadn’t he seen her more? Because of him, all she had to miss was a faded memory, and a question that she would probably never see an answer too.

Stop it, Toby. You’re not supposed to regret things when dying. It’s sad. 

He thought of Matt, and Gray. He hoped they were safe, and he hoped that whatever had happened to him had  _ just _ happened to him, that they hadn’t taken the wrong thing from the from the wrong person, that the cloth bag wasn’t going to be pulled from his neck just to see the two of them, eyes glassy and blood drying from the neck down, the last thing he ever saw. But, if he saw that, he probably wouldn’t mind dying. Just as long as they gave him a minute to throw up, first. 

  
  


He was going to miss them, he really was, going to miss how Matt would sit on the counter and swing her legs absentmindedly when they talked. He would miss that glimmer in Gray’s eye when he had a plan, the one that Toby had seen so many times before, but it was still as infectious. He would miss Matt’s laugh, Gray’s smile, and every other tiny aspect that was insignificant on its own, but somehow made them the people that they were, the people Toby cared about so deeply. But most of all he would miss how they always fell into an easy peace when they were together, how Toby didn’t feel the need to fill the silence, mainly because he knew they wouldn’t mind it if he did. 

He was going to miss them so much. 

It was at that moment that he felt a sharp tug, and suddenly he could see again.

So there were requirements, huh, Toby. Good to know.

The light was dim, but it still made him flinch as his eyes adapted to it. When he opened them again, he looked around, taking in just how grandiose the room was, with its painted ceiling and marble floors, with the giant staircase winding up to a second floor Toby would never get to see. The chandelier would’ve been the pièce de résistance had it been lit, but now only reflected the lamplight from the table below, and even that was a deep red, mahogany, definitely. There was someone sitting across from him, but Toby barely had time to recognise them before a noise caught his attention to his left. 

There was another figure, next to him, tied to the chair like he was, a cloth bag over their head. Their uniform looked kind of familiar. But then the bag was pulled up over their head, and Toby’s heart stopped. 

“Matt!?”

Think of the devil, Toby, and he shall appear. Now all they needed was Gray, and the trio would be complete. 

“Toby!”

Matt looked terrified, trembling in her chair, her skin deathly pale, and even though he knew it was futile, he tried to reach out to her, comfort her, but it only made his wrists chafe against the rope further. 

The figure behind Matt walked around the table, and sat down in the lamplight. 

“Are you alright?” He asked her, desperately.

She nodded, shaking. “Are you?”

He swallowed his fear and smiled at her, hoping that he didn’t look as nauseous as he felt. “I’m fine.”

She looked around, taking in everything he had. “Where are we?”

There was a clearing of the throat from the other side of the table. They looked around, finally taking in the other two people in the room.

“You!” Toby burst out, unable to stop himself in his shock. 

This night was just full of surprises. 

“You’re that weird bird thing that was following us around!”

The bird thing sighed. “My  _ name _ is Little King Crow, but yes, I am.” He had a thick Irish accent, Toby noted, just as he noted the woman sitting next to him, looking like her left fingernail was worth more than Toby’s entire apartment. Was she not from here as well?

“What sort of fucking name is that?” Matt said, still pale, but now glaring at Little King Crow. Leave it to Matt to insult the man who had just kidnapped and tied her to a chair, who could easily leave her dead in a river somewhere, but of course. Toby gave her a warning look, wishing again that he could use his hands. 

Little King Crow’s eyes narrowed. “Mine.” he said, needlelike. “And you would do well to hold your tongue, Madison  _ Julia _ Wells.”

Matts’ eyes went wide, and she fell silent.

The lady next to him leant forward.    
  


“Crow.” She said, in a voice smooth and cold, answering Toby’s question, she definitely wasn’t from here. “Stop being petty. There’s no need to scare them further.”

Crow looked petulant, but stood down. 

“I apologise for the ‘informalities’” She gestured to the chairs in which they were tied to, and Toby noticed that her nails matched her dress, with little gold accents as well, and were probably sharp enough to slit his throat. “But there have been recent ‘developments’ that we must account for. My name is Countess Cleo.”

Matt looked like she was about to say something, but Toby silenced her with a look. The woman, Countess Cleo, continued.

“I’m here as a representative of an organisation that takes special interest in work like yours.” 

“Which organisation?” Matt asked, and Toby was glad that the venom was gone.

“An organisation with top secret workings over the globe.” Countess Cleo answered. “V.I.L.E.”

“Vile?”

“Valuable Imports, Lavish Exports. V.I.L.E. We specialise in procuring and exporting valuables for the highest prices. As I said before, we have taken an interest in your work.”

“In our… work?” Toby asked. He didn’t know what Countess Cleo meant, if this entire thing was even real, why would a top secret organisation show interest in a bartender and an usher? Unless-

“Yes. Your work.” Countess Cleo replied, “Last night was expertly handled, particularly for those so inexperienced.”

Toby’s heart dropped into his stomach with such force it left him breathless. They were screwed. They had been found out, and they were screwed. This had to be a joke, some sick cruel prank to get them to confess. It wouldn’t be long before Countess Cleo, if that was even her name, got out the handcuffs. He looked at Matt, and her face mirrored his, one question written all over it:  _ how did they know? _

But Countess Cleo gave a small smile. She was quite beautiful, Toby noticed, in a way that terrified him, yes, but beautiful all the same. He did not want to get on the wrong side of this woman. 

“Don’t worry, we have no intentions of punishing you.” She said, but it did little to calm Toby down. “As you had noticed with my assistant here, Little King Crow, we have been following you two for quite some time. We would have contacted the police long ago, had we had any intention to do so.”

“Then, why are we here?” Matt demanded.

“Because we have a preposition for you two.” Crow replied. Countess Cleo nodded. 

“You see, V.I.L.E. takes special interest in those with great potential for our line of work.” She continued. “Now more than ever, we have a need for those who are willing to join us. We would like to extend that offer to the two of you, Miss. Wells.”

Toby’s mind stopped moving, which was weird, because it was always moving.

“What… what?”

“We are inviting you to join V.I.L.E’s ranks.” Countess Cleo explained. “You will be trained to become state of the art operatives, and gain valuable contacts throughout the world. Many V.I.L.E operatives have gone on to incredibly prestigious positions in society. We believe that you two would make valuable assets to our organisation, should you accept.”

“However.” she continued. “It is not a decision to be taken lightly. If you accept our offer, you will be cut off from your friends and family. You will be forced to leave your homes, and your current lives, behind. You will not even be able to keep your names. Do you understand?”

There was silence as they processed. Then, Matt spoke up.

“What happens if we say no?”

“Well, nothing.” Countess Cleo responded. “We will ‘demand’ your silence on this matter, of course, but you will return home and continue on with your lives. This incident will pass without effect. But I should warn you, that, with your current situation with the police, that may not be advisable.” 

What?

What situation with the police?

He looked at Matt, hoping that she was just as confused as he was, but she wasn’t. 

“Matt?”    
  
She didn’t respond, deep in thought. 

“Matt, what’s she talking about?”

Matt jumped slightly. “I forgot that you didn’t know!” She bit her lip, and looked at him “The cops found out about the robbery. They were at work. They interviewed all of us. Gray and I were able to shake them off, but…”

“But what?”

“But you’re one of their suspects, Toby. They’re looking for you.”

Toby wished that he could’ve been shocked. Wished he could’ve been horrified, that his heart would stop and he wouldn’t be able to breathe and his head would start buzzing with indescribable emotion, that the room would grow smaller and smaller and he wouldn’t be able to escape, that he could be filled with cold, sickening dread. But instead he sat there feeling nothing, because deep down he wasn’t surprised at all. It would be him. Of course it would be him. 

“I will give you a couple of hours to decide.” Countess Cleo told them. “Crow and I-”

Matt cut her off.

“A couple of hours!” She spluttered. “You expect us to make a decision like this in  _ two hours _ !!”

“I know it isn’t a lot of time.” Countess Cleo gave them a sympathetic look. “But, given your circumstances, we have to act quickly. It would be very risky to keep you here longer than we need to, with your involvement with the police being what it is.”

She was about to leave, but Toby had one more thing he needed to ask. 

“How do we know that this is real?”

“You don’t.” She responded simply, standing up. “But you don’t have a lot to lose, either. You have two hours. We will be waiting upstairs for your answer. Crow, please untie them.”

Countess Cleo glided away, the only noise she made the rhythmic ‘clack’ of high heels on marble.

Crow untied Toby first, then Matt. Toby’s wrists fell to his sides, finally, he rubbed them briefly before flinching in pain and dropping his hands. His wrists were chafed raw. Crow, now at the base of the stairs, turned around to give them one more look, before he too disappeared up to the second floor. They watched him leave. 

They ran into a hug almost instinctively, Toby holding her tightly, ignoring the pain in his wrists, Matt pressed her face into his shoulder, standing up on her toes to reach. They stayed like that for several moments, before Toby drew back and looked at her, his hands still on her shoulders. She still looked scared, but physically unharmed. Her hairtie was tangled around at the base of her neck. He helped her pull it out. 

“Are you sure you’re ok?” He asked her.

She nodded. “I was so worried. I’m glad you’re alright.”

He smiled at her. “I’m fine. Now, tell me what happened today with the police.”

“They showed up just as we were about to go home. They figured out that it was one of the workers, I don’t know how they did it that quickly, but they did. And because you weren’t there, well…”

Toby nodded in understanding. Matt continued.

“Well, they interviewed me, too. I covered, I said that Gray and I were dating, that’s why we were in the storage room. They believed me. But they drilled me about you, as well, and it was pretty clear that they thought you had done it.”

“You’re lucky you weren’t arrested.”

“Yeah.” she nodded. “It was Gray who mainly-”

Her eyes widened as they had the same realisation.

“Gray…”

“He’s not here. That… organisation… or whatever, doesn’t want him.”

“But, that means he’ll be left here with the cops after him!” Matt said. “Toby, we can’t leave him behind! It’ll be a death sentence!” 

“Matt, I don’t think we have a choice!” 

Toby didn’t want to say it, but he couldn’t deny that it wasn’t true. If Matt was right, it was only a matter of time before there was a warrant out on his head, and if whatever Countess Cleo was saying was correct, there was a chance that he could keep not only himself, but Matt safe, it wasn’t like he couldn’t take it. He couldn’t leave Gray behind, one of his best friends, couldn’t just disappear without a trace, sure. But Gray could get away from police scrutiny, Gray could get on with his life without him. Gray had that chance. Toby didn’t. 

And Gray would be fine without him, in the end, he had never needed Toby like Toby had once needed him. Their friendship was only budding when Gray graduated, and they just naturally drifted apart after that, but still. Gray had gravitated toward him, much to Toby’s surprise, and there was, well, something between them. But then Gray had gone and disappeared, and when Toby saw him again, on the steps of the Opera House, he barely recognised him. It was something, learning to know him again, something that Toby didn’t want to lose. But it didn’t matter what Toby wanted, Gray had come back missing 3 years of his memories and bounced back from that, he could move on from this. He could move on from Toby. He had done it before, after all. 

“Gray could plan an entire heist in a night, Matt. He’ll be alright without us.”

“But… but…” Matt was still unsure. “We can’t… we can’t just abandon him. Anyway!” She said, her eyes bright, “We shouldn’t even be here! It was Gray who planned this whole thing, we just went along with him! Why are they only taking us?!”

“I don’t know…”

“They’ve made a mistake, Toby! We need to tell them that Gray planned this!” Matt looked hopeful. “Maybe… maybe they’ll take him too!”

It was often so easy to forget how young Matt actually was. It wasn’t now.

“Matt, they knew your middle name. Not even  _ I _ knew that. These guys have clearly been watching us for weeks, we saw them do it! If they wanted Gray, he would be here with us right now. But he’s not, Matt. We have to do this without him.”

Matt’s face fell, and she looked down. “So, what do we do?” She asked, softly.

“I think there’s only one thing we can do.” He replied, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We have to make a choice.”

She laughed, humourlessly. “What choice do we have? It’s not like we can say no.” 

She was right. Countess Cleo had all but told them what would happen if they refused. 

“Then, I guess we have our answer.”

Matt looked up at him. “You’re sure about this?”

Toby shook his head, but he knew Matt understood him, anyway. 

“Ok. Then, I’m with you.”

That was all Toby needed. 

He called out to the room. “Hello? We’ve made up our minds!”

His voice echoed alongside the tap tap of heels as Countess Cleo came back downstairs, Crow following closely behind her. It was clear that they hadn’t been far away, he wouldn’t be surprised if they’d been listening in the whole time. 

“So?” She asked, when she was only a couple of metres away from them.

Toby suspected that she already knew the answer, but still, he looked at Matt one last time. She nodded at him.

“We’ll do it.” He told her. “We’re in.”

She smiled at them.

“Excellent.” She said. “Welcome to V.I.L.E. Though, as one of your future teachers, I do have to apologise for what I’m about to do.”

Toby barely had time to respond before he felt the stab in his neck. Matt screamed, and his muscles tensed in horror, but that only made it worse. He felt cold liquid burst like a jet, under his skin, trickling down his neck, and he struggled, uncontrollably, even though the pain was nearly excruciating, but an arm wrapped around him and held him tight onto the needle, until it was pulled out. He put a hand to his neck, feeling blood against his fingers. He tried to figure out what was going on, but he couldn’t figure out where he was, he couldn’t recognise the woman in front of him, or the bird by her side? Was that a magpie? He hoped so… Toby liked magpies… at least, the nice ones... His arm fell back to his side... because his muscles were suddenly heavy, too heavy... Too haevy... Too ahvey... oTo ehyva...

Toby hit the ground, and knew no more.

***

  
  


Crow just finished loading the girl into the back seat, fastening her seatbelt for her. Cleo couldn’t risk damaging the new recruits before they got there, after all. New recruits were in high demand. The first class of V.I.L.E Academy’s new campus. She had to make her contribution, after all, and after last year with the mime… well, she hoped these two were up to scratch, or Dr. Bellum would never let her hear the end of it.

Not that Dr. Bellum was one to talk. Her’s had to get his memory wiped (not that it concerned Dr. Bellum much, which was a shame. Cleo could’ve had some  _ fun _ with that).

“That’s those two done. Are we ready to go, Countess?” Crow brought her out of her reverie.

“Yes. Thank you, Crow.”

As she took her place in the passenger seat, she let her mind wander back to Crackle, wherever he was, perfectly unaware that Cleo had just snatched his two best accomplices from under his nose. This was the end of him, and he didn’t even know it. He was no longer a threat, and she wondered why they ever considered him one in the first place.

She smiled to herself.

Two birds. One stone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These three dumbasses: We have come up with a solution for every problem, our heist has been meticulously planned, and there is no way that we will ever be caught. We are completely confident in our ability.
> 
> The police: *Show the slightest suspicion in them*
> 
> Them: ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfu


	14. Graham Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gray reels, and very nearly does something very drastic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for skipping a week! I got bogged down with assignments, and the chapter was nowhere near good enough to be put up last Sunday. I hope the chapter makes up for the wait!
> 
> Also, did I break my very important pre-established pattern of chapter titles just to make and A:TLA reference? Yes. Yes I did.

In the days after Toby and Matt disappeared, the smoke screen had settled around Sydney like a shroud. Gray could look out the window and not see anything but faint shapes in the white. People shut their doors, their windows, but it still found a way inside, burning eyes and crawling down throats. Gray had to wear a mask when he went outside, a starch white surgical one, but he still couldn’t stop coming home and coughing up bile into the kitchen sink. He told himself that was because of the smoke, at least.

Matt had officially been declared missing a day after Gray had walked into the police station in distraught panic, Matt’s phone in hand. They would have waited normally, they told him, but due to ‘suspicious circumstances,’ they called it, they’d push it forward.The cops drilled him about Toby, again, did Gray know where he had gone? Was Toby acting strangely before he disappeared? By the time they let him out, he was exhausted and faintly nauseous.

But that was only the beginning. He had work to do.

***   
  
Gray had never been more grateful that Toby let his dad get him a nice apartment, nice enough that he could get through unseen with medium effort. With the situation the way it was, he couldn’t risk being caught there. Sure, he could just be a concerned friend dropping by, but he was still aware of the fact that being seen here would probably raise too many questions.

Gray didn’t want to linger, Toby’s apartment looked too much like Toby was coming back, and the thought filled him with both unease and hope. Toby had left a plate on the disrack, there was a bowl full of murky water in the sink, and an open cereal box on the counter. When he stood there, he could almost tell himself that Toby had only stepped out for a couple of hours, that he’d be back soon to put everything away. But Gray didn’t want to entertain that thought, not anymore. Anyway, he had a job to do. 

The bag was leant against a cabinet, and if Gray wouldn’t have given it a second thought if he didn’t know what was inside. He picked up the bag and opened it, checking that everything was inside, before picking it up. But as he did so, Gray got a closer look at the picture frames on top of the cabinet. Pictures of Toby’s dad, smiling with him, Toby wearing his high school blazer (Gray had one just the same). A picture of Bertie, Toby’s sister, on her first day of school, long dress and a toothy grin. Pictures of Toby’s high school friends, in what looked like a messy selfie, blurred lights behind them and laughing maniacally. And there was a picture of him and Matt, as well, at the beach, in a different coloured frame. 

Gray didn’t know why he did it, but he flipped the photo so it was face down. Then every other frame, until all were face down on the cabinet, except for one. It had been obscured by the other frames, and there was dust on the glass, but it was a picture of all three of them, at their spot on the harbour. It couldn’t have been taken very long after he’d met Matt, about two months after Gray had ‘come back,’ so to speak. It was before she cut her hair. 

When Toby had first introduced them, Gray did not like Matt, but it was more distrust and any direct dislike. Something about her screamed at him to get away, that she couldn’t be trusted. But TOby had been so excited to introduce the two of them, so he held out for his sake, more than anything, and swallowed it down. But Matt grew on him, until one day, when she said something that nearly made fall off his chair with laughter, and it hit him how much he actually liked her. 

He shoved the picture in his bag and left the apartment, making sure nobody saw him on the way out. 

***

Gray didn’t sleep that night. He sat at the table, staring at the wall as time turned. He wished he had something to drink, something stronger than the shitty beer he had in the fridge, so he could waste the time in a drunken haze, rather than the heavy terror that settled in him, and settled heavier each time he looked at the bags leaning against the coffee table. When the dawn rose, imperceptible through the smoke except for the changing of the light, Gray hadn’t moved, nor would he until the police called him, at around 10 am, wanting more questions. Gray couldn’t do more than oblige. Until he walked in. 

Matt’s parents were there. Looking as terrible as Gray imagined he did. He never knew that he would meet them like this. And he had to tell them the whole story, only leaving out the parts where where Gray implicated their daughter in major criminal activity. Matt’s mother drained every detail from him, she had a sense of frenzied desperation about her. Her dad kept silent for most of it, only asking him a couple of questions on occasion. He had Matt’s eyes, and Gray couldn’t meet them. They didn’t know what Gray knew. They didn’t know what Matt had done. They didn’t know that the reason she was gone was sitting just across from them. 

Gray went home and threw up into the kitchen sink. 

***

In the weeks after his friends disappeared, the smoke began to dissipate. People could see the skyline again. And they rejoiced. Just in time for Christmas, they said. A miracle, they called it. Gray didn’t think about it like that.

Toby’s arrest warrant had been put out four days after Matt went missing. Soon enough everyone knew about it, what Toby had done (what they’d all done, but Gray couldn’t say that). They’d added Matt’s kidnapping to the list, or at least ‘suspicion’ of it (which was essentially the same as outright accusation, in the publics’ eye). Tobia’s close friend had discovered his plan, his robbery, so he took her and ran. He was probably going to ransom her in trade for his freedom, if the Sydney Morning Herald was to be believed. There was a public outcry, rage about violence against women, pushes for more to be done to protect them, amid desperate pleas for Matt’s return, on the hope that she was still alive. Gray had been to every search party, scoured every outer region of Sydney for something, anything, amid crowds of sympathetic supporters, but it turned up nothing. Everywhere he looked, there they were. Suddenly, was Matt smiling brightly from every newsagent, pictures of her, dancing, laughing, doing everything that young girls were supposed to do, plastered on every news channel. They then showed pictures of Toby, from high school, or pictures of them together. Gray didn’t know where they’d gotten half of them. He looked so young, babyfaced, and innocent. How could he have done such a thing, the media asked (he didn’t, Gray wanted to tell them, but he couldn’t say that.)

Gray had done what he could, in the forms of two bags, weighed down by rocks and stolen goods, sinking, down and down and far away. His bag, however, stayed on the couch. Gray knew why it was needed. He knew what he had to do. He knew he could end it all, make the trade, his freedom for Toby’s. He would have done it in a heartbeat.

Except that he didn’t. 

Instead he spent hours on end staring at the bag, despising every fibre of his being. It was lucky he couldn’t feel the Machine anymore, it disgusted him now. Everything about him disgusted him, now.

He forced himself into a routine, to fake some semblance of normality, though whether to the rest of the world or to himself, he didn’t know. It was simple: go to work, go home, stare at bag, recoil in guilt and self-loathing, go to bed. But he stopped sleeping not long after, and nobody at work spoke to him anymore. They avoided him with an air of uncomfortable pity. Even Amelia gave him space. She had yet to take him up on his promise, which surprised him - Matt and Toby’s disappearance must have piqued her curiosity and her suspicion. Sometimes, he saw her looking at him, like she was trying to say something, but couldn’t find the words. So she didn’t say anything at all.

And so it continued, until Gray asked for some time off. He was granted it immediately, with the same sympathetic expression that everyone else had given him. This whole situation had hit everybody hard, he was told. Take all the time he needed. 

***

On Christmas day, Gray had slept, just barely, and just for a few hours, but he counted it gift enough. He woke up sometime around midday, another dream, another headache. He called his parents, and tried his best to look normal. It was an awkward conversation, but most conversations with his parents were. They asked him how work was going, how Matt and Toby were doing. They didn’t know, and he didn’t have the heart to tell them, so he just smiled and said they were fine. His mum told him he looked tired. Gray told her it was just work stress. They told him they loved him, he said it back, almost mechanically. 

There was a knock at the door. He told his parents that he had to go, wished them one more Merry Christmas, and ended the call. But when he opened the door, no one was there. Instead, there was a container, with an envelope on top. His name was written on it. Gray wondered how it had gotten in, but he took it inside all the same. He opened the container first, to find a tiny pavlova, sitting on a plastic plate. It was a little bit collapsed, and someone had tried to hastily cover it in cream. Gray set it on the table and turned to the envelope, which revealed a Christmas card, simply reading;

_ Graham, _

_ Happy Christmas. I’ve never had to make a pavlova before so I’m sorry if it isn’t very good. _

_ I hope you’re doing ok. _

_ Amelia. _

Gray wondered how Amelia knew his address, but he still set the card down on the countertop. Presentation aside, it was actually pretty good. 

***

In the months after Matt and Toby disappeared, Gray wished he could say he was doing better. But it was like they had taken part of his mind with them when they had gone, and the connection would always be there, he would always wander back to them, regardless of how much it hurt, how much it ached to think about them. The police had all but given up on finding Matt, and though the search continued for Toby, they eventually died out in the public eye. But even as December turned into January, boiling with summer heat, bright and yellow, Gray didn’t go back to work. It was a struggle just to get himself to shower. He saw Michelle, still, but it didn’t help. He couldn’t tell her the whole story. 

It was a warm summer’s day, inconsequential, when Gray finally made up his mind. He’d slept that night, for the first time in so long, he slept well. When the dream woke him up the next morning, it brought him relief, rather than anger. He showered, he shaved. He made himself some breakfast as he watched the dawn rise. It would be the last time he saw it, it was a nice thing to see. He cleaned out the fridge, throwing away anything that could go bad, after all he didn’t want the cleaners to come in to a festering mess. He then cleaned up as much as he could, it was all he could do to make their lives easier. He changed the sheets, opened the windows, and the room was filled with airy light. It was hot today, incredibly hot, but Gray didn’t mind. He felt relieved. It would all be over soon. 

He picked up his bag when the intercom rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Graham, it’s Amelia. Can I come in?”

What harm would it do?

“Sure.” He rang her in, and she knocked on the door a few minutes later. 

“Hey!” She said, when he opened it. “I haven’t seen you for a while.”

“I took some time off work. Come in.”

He stepped aside as Amelia came in. She eventually perched herself on the couch, her hands clasped on her lap. 

“Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks.”

Gray sat down across from her. 

“How have you been?” Amelia asked tentatively. 

He didn’t know what to tell her. He should’ve just settled for ‘good’ or something like that, something vague that could put her at ease, something that wouldn’t tip her off to what he was about to do.    
  
But he couldn’t. There was something in the way Amelia was looking at him that told him it wouldn’t work. He tried to formulate something, something nondescript, but the words snagged on his throat. He opened his mouth, and closed it again. 

And then it all came pouring out, before he could stop himself. He told her everything, about the robbery, about how the plan had started, about how he had taught Toby how to pickpocket, how Matt had found them a storeroom, how he’d made fake boxes to hide stolen objects. He told her about the fight, about the police, until he was eventually entreating onto stuff she already knew, but Amelia didn’t interrupt him once. How Matt and Toby had disappeared, how Toby was blamed for something Gray made him do, how he felt like the world was closing in on him, how he had to look Matt’s parents in the eyes and tell them that he was the last person to have seen their daughter, and now he’d probably be the last one to see her alive, how he spent each day curled up in a cocktail of his own guilt and selfishness, how he had kept the bag, knowing that he could easily fix his mistakes, but never had done. He talked and he talked until there was nothing else to say, and when he finished, he realised he had tears in his eyes. Amelia’s face was soft, but her expression was indescribable. 

“So that’s how you did it.” She said, quietly. “I was wondering.” Then, she gestured to the bag, resting at Gray’s feet. “Is that it?”

“Yeah. That’s it.”

She looked up at him “So what were you going to do with it? You had it on your back when I came in.”

Gray swallowed.

“I was… taking it to the police. Finally.”

“You were taking this to the… You were turning yourself in?”

“Yes, I was.”

Amelia’s eyes went wide. 

“You can’t.”

“What?”

Amelia looked as surprised by her words as he did, but her voice was definitive. “You can’t turn yourself in, Graham.”

“Why not? I thought, you of all people.”

“I know, I know. Normally, I would. It’s just…” Amelia trailed off, “I don’t know. Just trust me, you don’t want to do this.”

“I don’t have a choice. He’s my friend, I have to help him.”

“And you really think locking yourself up will help him? You think that’s what he wants?”

“I don’t know what he wants because he is currently missing because of me. I’m the one who started this! I have to finish it.” Gray stood up too, picking up the bag, he didn’t know why he felt the need to leave at just that moment, probably because he knew that Amelia would try to stop him if he waited. 

Amelia stood up too.

“Toby going missing has absolutely nothing to do with you! What do you hope to gain from this?”

“I’m helping my friend.”

“Yeah ok, just tell me how exactly turning yourself in helps Toby.”

“It clears his name.”

“Yeah, and then what?” Amelia demanded. “Is that going to suddenly ‘un-missing’ him? Just make him magically reappear? Why can’t you see that you’re being a dumbass?

“I don’t know, Amelia, why can’t you mind your own fucking business for once!?” Gray snapped. 

Amelia fell silent. Then;

“You know what? Fine. Go, I won’t stop you. Just tell me who you’re  _ actually _ doing this for, Graham, Toby or for yourself?”

Gray stopped. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I will let you go if you can actually look me in the eye and tell me that you are actually doing this to protect Toby, and not to get rid of your own guilt.”

“Of course it’s to-”

“Is it? Because if I were you, I’d be figuring out what happened to them, I’d be putting every minute of my life into finding them, not uselessly turning myself into the police just so I can feel better about myself!”

“This is not about me!”

“Yes it is! It is all about you! How can you not see that what you’re doing does  _ nothing _ to help them! You have to ask yourself, Graham, do you actually want your friends back, or do you just want to  _ wallow _ in your own self pity?!”

“I don’t have a choice!”

“You do! Just stop pretending you don’t!

“ _ How do you not get it, Amelia _ !?”

Gray’s outburst alarmed even himself. It echoed in the silence.

“I’m the cause for all of this.” He said, eventually. “This is my fault.”

“This is all my fault.”

The dam broke. Everything, everything that had happened over the past month came pouring out, and Gray was sobbing before he could stop himself. But then Amelia’s arms were around him, and he was crying into her shoulder, all his weight falling onto her. She rubbed his back gently. 

“It’s… all my… fault.” 

“No, it’s not.”

She held him for a while longer, until the tears died down, and he was too exhausted to do anything else but lean into her.

“It’ll be alright, Graham. You can fix this.”

“Gray.”

“Hm?”

“Call me Gray.”

“Ok then, Gray.” She smiled. “Let’s go find your friends.”

He looked at her, then nodded. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this chapter was supposed to have a lot more backstory than it actually did, but I found that it didn't work at all so I took a lot of it out, it can wait for later chapters. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!


	15. Gray, The Sidekick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelia takes the lead (unofficially), Gray gets a (brief) talking to, and a move is made (finally).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays to everyone who celebrated! This is my last update of the decade, which is a weird thought. This has been my first fic, and writing this has been so much fun! I hope you guys have all found as much joy in this as I have!

“So, what exactly are we supposed to do?” 

He was back on the couch, emotional breakdown over, but the exhaustion that always followed crying was starting to seep in. Amelia was rummaging through the pockets of her dress, an act of which was surprising in itself, considering that he wasn’t aware her dress even had pockets. They must’ve been ones hiddened in the side seams, Matt had showed him a skirt just like that.

“Well, we investigate, obviously.” She said, still rummaging. Then, with a noise of triumph, she pulled out a bright pink notebook and set it on her lap.

“Oh, ok, easy. Just uh, explain to me exactly what the fuck that involves?”

“Well, it means- do you have a pen I could use?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” 

“Thanks.” Pen now supplied, Amelia flipped the notebook, covered with anime girls in coloured sailor uniforms, open, pen poised to write.

“Well, I think we need to start by deciding whether they were actually taken, or if they left on their own-”

“They were taken. Definitely.” Gray said, quickly. 

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I literally heard them take Matt, on the phone, remember?”

“Graham- Gray- that could’ve verily easily been staged.”

“But her phone…”

“Could’ve been smashed to make it more realistic, and to cover her trail. She could have called you, faked a fight, and then-”

“She didn’t call me. I called her. Anyway, they wouldn’t do something like that…” Gray swallowed, before continuing. “They’re not the types to.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because they’re loyal to me. They wouldn’t just leave me here and make a run for it, like I said, they’re not the types, especially not Toby.”

Amelia’s eyebrows quirked slightly, but she quickly corrected herself. 

“How long have you two been friends?” She asked him, voice laced with curiosity.

“He was 2 years below me in high school, but we were in the same ballet class.”

“You do ballet?”

“I did.” He corrected her. “I stopped around 3 years ago.”

“Why?”

“I don’t remember.”

“What do you mean?”

Gray sighed “I’ve got amnesia. I have no memory of the past three years.” 

Amelia’s eyes went wide. “Shit! I’m sorry, Gray.”

“Don’t be. I’m surprised you don’t know, I thought someone would have told you by now. But yeah, I woke up in the hospital start of February, memory just gone. No one can tell me what happened, or where I even was. It was like I never existed.” 

“Huh.  _ Weird _ .” Amelia said, still looking shocked. 

“But to answer your question, Toby and I have technically been friends for 3 years, take away the amnesia part.”

That seemed to stir Amelia out of her reverie. “Right.” She said, turning back to the notebook. 

“You’re sure that they wouldn’t run away?” She asked him

“Definite.”

“Alright. I trust your call.” Amelia conceded. “So that means we have to figure out a motive. If they were taken, why were they taken?”

“I dunno.”

Amelia deadpanned.

“Try thinking about it, Gray, I know it’s hard for you.” 

“Strong words, coming from you.”

“Wow. what a great insult. I’m absolutely devastated. How will I ever recover.”

Gray thought about it. “Maybe… maybe we stole something from the wrong person? So they took them as punishment, maybe?”

“That would make sense…” Amelia responded, “But they would whatever you stole back, wouldn’t they? But it’s been months, and there’s been nothing.”

A wave of cold dripped down Gray’s spine. “Because I dumped the bags, into the ocean. Amelia… what if I… what if they’re….”

“They’re not, so stop.” Amelia cut him off. “That wouldn’t make sense. If whoever took them wanted it back so badly they could kill them for it with minimal repercussions, then they would’ve been on your ass way before now.”

“Fair point. It doesn’t really work.”

They were quiet for several minutes, deep in thought.

“What if they were taken for separate reasons? Like, it was just a coincidence they were both my friends.”

“There is no way something like that happens on coincidence. They were taken within hours of each other, that was  _ absolutely  _ planned.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Several more minutes.

“But hold that thought. They were both your friends.  _ Your _ friends. Don’t you think that’s odd?”

“Well, yeah, obviously.”

“These are the two people who you, and I quote you on this, care about more than anything. Both taken within hours of each other. What if we’re thinking about this the wrong way? What if they weren’t taken for something they did, but to punish  _ you _ ?”

It all clicked into place. 

“That would explain why I wasn’t taken! It all makes sense!”

Gray shot up, excited. After everything, there it was, a solution. Something that made sense to him. 

“Whoa, whoa, Graham- I mean Gray- calm down. It’s just a theory. There are still a lot of things we need to figure out.”

Gray didn’t want to, but the moment Amelia pointed it out, a million questions popped into his head. Gray fell back down on the couch, but his mood was only slightly dampened. 

He sorted through all his questions, and found the one that made the most sense to ask.

“If they’re out to get me, then what’s their endgame?” 

“I don’t know. I mean, they haven’t made any contact with you at all. They’ve made no requests, no ransoms, nothing. Even if they  _ had _ killed them- which is unlikely-” She added quickly “They would have sent some sort of message to you. It doesn’t add up.”

“Maybe they’re doing it for more than just to punish me.”

“Like what?”

“Maybe it’s to get me to do something, something drastic.”

“Like, turn yourself into the police?” Amelia asked, innocently.

“Yeah. Yeah! But what would they get from that? What would they have to gain from me being in jail?”

“I don’t know. Have you gotten on the bad side of anyone important, lately?”

“No.”

“Been involved with any people, or organisations that are shady?”

“No…”

But that wasn’t quite true, now, was it? The Machine whirred and rattled in his chest, in protest or assent, he didn’t know, nor was he aware that it had returned. But he had to think past that, past the robbery and the Machine and the Girl back, farther.

Wait.

The Girl.

The Girl.

The Girl.

Why was she always wearing red?   
  


_ Carmen. _

“Wait.”

Amelia’s eyebrows went up again. “Don’t tell me-”

“I’m not sure if you’d believe me if I did.”

“Yes, Gray, we have just finished discussing how your friends were kidnapped to drive you to turn yourself for a heist you committed with the aforementioned friends; but  _ this _ is the part where I pull out. Try me.”

“Okay, but this gets a bit crazy.”

He started with Carmen, as he had so many times before, a prologue to the entire - well whatever it was - thing that was the New Zealand incident. Amelia’s mouth was open by the time he was done. 

“Ok, so first of all, you just decided to follow her?! Without checking  _ any _ sort of credentials? That could’ve been a complete trap, you numbat!”

“Yeah, that’s what Matt said.”

“Well Matt was right! And second of all, she tells you she’s from a top-secret spy agency, and then tells you that she’s one of the good guys, and you  _ take her at her word _ ?! Just, no further research?! Jesus, Graham, how horny were you for this woman?”

“Yeah, that’s also what Matt said…”

“And finally: you knew that Carmen was involved with something shady… and you then decide…  _ not  _ to research it further? Just wait until  _ now _ ?”

“Well, we were kind of caught up with the heist. We all agreed to figure out the whole deal with Carmen and the dreams after we did that, except, well-”

“Wait, what dreams?”

Gray explained those to her, as well.

“Furries. Fucking furries.”

“Yup…”

“Can your life get anymore fucking weirder?” Amelia exclaimed, but there was something in her eyes, something that looked suspiciously like excitement.

“Apparently not.” Gray paused. “Do you really think that Carmen might have taken Matt and Toby?”

“I don’t know.” Amelia said, and he could tell that she was picking her words carefully. “But she certainly had the means to do so. And enough knowledge to know what would get you out of the way. She’s our only lead, so far.” 

They sat there, the two of them, mulling it over.

“Alright.” She said, sitting up. “Here’s the game plan. We track down this ‘charity’ or whatever it is, figure out anything we can about them, and what they’re going to do next. If we can get some sort of chatter, anything, we might be able to figure out some sort of location, y’know, where they’re based at. It might give us some clue as to where they’re keeping Matt and-”

“ _ If _ they’re keeping them.”

“If they’re keeping them. Anyway, we might get some insight into your whole memory deal.”

“Why is everyone else way more interested in that then I am?”

“Because it’s fucking wierd, Gray.”

“Fair.”

“Ok, so, we good?”

“Wait. I’ve got a question. How exactly are we going to do all this? We have no way of investigating anything.”

“About that…” Amelia suddenly looked sheepish. “I actually have no fucking clue.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

*** 

Gray went back to work that next week. They were happy to see him back, and he was happy to be back, but there was still a sense of discomfort around him, people would still give him sympathetic looks, and the questions onto his wellbeing were more than just for the sake of etiquette. Matt and Toby had since been replaced, but there was definitely a gap where they had once been, a phrase omitted from a paragraph: everybody knew something was missing, but nobody dared correct it aloud. It did ache a little, watching life move on as normal, knowing that they were no longer in it, particularly when he went out to the Harbour, and sat down against the cement, watching the waves gently move a torn plastic bag further out to sea (probably to kill some hapless sea creature, not that Gray could stop it), and it felt like he was waiting for them, like the past 2 months had just been some hallucination, a performance (he was so good at them, after all.)

But it wasn’t, he had to remind himself. They were gone. That’s why he was here. 

He should go somewhere else, somewhere where there was no memory of them. He would go back to the cafe, but Carmen had long since tainted that with her presence and her perfume, only for him to further taint that with arising suspicion. No, he couldn’t go back there, not now. Back to the Gardens? No, that just reminded him of the heist, how Matt and Toby would probably still be here if-

Gray cut himself off before he even finished the thought. Amelia was right about that. It wasn’t his fault. 

Regardless, Gray needed to act like he was doing something, before someone saw him and go the worst idea of it, so he rummaged around in his bag (the same bag, all the goods were now hidden in the apartment), and pulled out a book.

Crime and Punishment. It was a fucking derge, but he didn’t mind it. It kept his mind from wandering too far into dangerous territory.

***

Amelia approached him about a week or so after their conversation in the apartment. They were working together, testing out a couple of new rigs for a new show, 

“Do you wanna come over to mine this weekend?” She asked him. Jack (Gray couldn’t remember if that was his name) leered at them. Gray flipped him off. 

“I’ve done some digging.” She told him in an undertone. 

“Me too.” He replied. Then, louder; “Yeah, I’d love to.”

“Great.” She smiled. “I’ll text you the time and place.”

“Cool.”

That was how he ended up in front of a nondescript looking house in the outer suburbs. It was a nice house, and Gray calmed himself down as he walked up and rang the doorbell. Family gatherings made him uncomfortable. The door opened, and Gray came face to face with a boy of around 12. 

“Hi.”

“Amelia! Your friend’s here!” The boy called out.

“Oh wow, thanks James, I wasn’t aware!” Amelia’s voice, dripping with sarcasm, rang out. 

“Be nice to your brother, Meels.” A third voice, a woman’s, said.

Gray heard footsteps behind him, and Amelia emerged behind the boy, James, wearing a bright yellow sundress with pink flowers.

“Sorry, come in.” she smiled, skidding slightly in her socks. “This is my brother, James.”   
  


“Hi.” James said. Then, after Amelia gave him a pointed look, he left. Gray came in and took his shoes off, and Amelia lead him to the kitchen, where her parents were cooking. An old lady, her grandmother, definitely, was sitting at the kitchen table. After introducing him to her parents, Amelia lead him to the old woman at the table. 

“And this is my Nana Akosua. Nana, this is Graham.”

“Ah.” Akosua smiled. “The boyfriend.”

“Nana, for the last time, we’re not dating.”

“And I said the exact same thing when I first brought your grandfather home.” She shook Gray’s hand “Ignore my grandaughter, you seem like a  _ lovely  _ young man.”

“Ignore my grandmother, Gray, she’s not minding her own  _ business _ like she  _ should be. _ ”

Gray definitely saw the resemblance.

He liked Amelia’s family. He liked their informality, their noisiness, the way they could tease and insult each other to high heaven and not mean a word of it. It was what he pictured of his own parents, his own family, if everything had turned out right. If Juliet had never died. 

But he pushed that thought aside. She had, and there was no use dreaming about it. Not anymore. 

After lunch, Gray picked up his plate to take to the sink, but Amelia grabbed his arm. “Gray and I have to talk. Can we go?”

James startled to say something, but after a scathing look from his mother, he stopped. “Of course.” She told them, but as Amelia led him down the hallway, her father called out;

“I expect the door to remain open, Meels!” 

“I’m 18 years old, Papa, I can close my door if I want.” 

“Yes, Kojo, she’ll be fine. Graham will make an  _ excellent _ husband.”

“Nana!” 

Amelia pulled him into her room and shut the door. Pointedly.

“Ignore my grandma, she’s just being a shitstirrer.” Amelia said, laughing slightly. “Sit down, make yourself at home.”

Amelia’s room was incredibly bright. Her walls were pink, but they were covered so heavily in posters it could barely be seen. Her shelves were a mess of books and knick-knacks, figurines and succulents and the likes. The only thing in her room that seemed remotely organised was her desk, with its pastel coloured stationery, all lined up, her laptop (covered completely in stickers), placed neatly against the wall. Amelia sat down on the desk chair, and Gray sat on the end of her bed (purple bedspread, covered with rabbits and moons. It looked like it had been made in a hurry).    
  


“So,” She started. “What have you got for me?”

“Not a lot.” He told her. “I decided to look into the charity Carmen said she worked for. Black Sheep.”

“Yeah? What did you find?”   
  


“Not a lot. There was a website, but all that told me was that it’s based in California, but they’ve done work all over the world.”

“Which we’ve already established from the New Zealand incident.” 

“Yeah. Which got me thinking: if the ‘gala’ in New Zealand was a front for a ‘mission’ or whatever, wouldn’t it be safe to say that all the other events mentioned on the site are fronts as well? Meaning, wherever they’ve been, there’s been a plan to stop, right?”

“Well, yes…” Amelia said “But what do we do with that information?” 

“I, maybe have an inkling of a plan in mind.” He told her. The Machine had delighted in his newfound spirit, and this one came easier to him than his last ones had (practice makes perfect, he supposed). “What did you find out?”

“I found the site, like you did.” Amelia started, “And I was able to use what little hacking skills I have to-”

“Wait, you can hack things?”

“Barely. I started learning when I was younger, but I figured out pretty quick that it was  _ not _ for me.” She told him. “But I was able to use what I  _ did _ know to establish that this charity’s got more encryption than the FBI.”

“So whatever this agency may be, their either military level, or they’ve got one hell of an IT department.”

“Exactly. But it’s pretty clear that it’s not connected to any government. A government would just target you directly, they wouldn’t want you outside their direct control.”

“Unless this is an attempt to control me.”

“Which it would be a very risky attempt, particularly for a world power. No, it doesn’t make sense. If they wanted you arrested, they would’ve just arrested you.”

“So we’re at IT department?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t get us anywhere, really. All we know is that we can’t track them digitally. So that’s that.” Amelia said, shortly. “You said you had a plan, though.”

“Well, it’s more an idea.” He told her, the Machine, which had apparently been sleeping, woke up with a jolt. “But I was thinking; if each one of their events is a mission, then for it to be a mission, there must be something that needs thwarting, right? Well, what if we ‘created’ a mission?”

“Created a mission?” Amelia raised her eyebrows. “You mean, like-”

“Like create a-”

“Please don’t cut me off.”    
  
Gray blinked at her, surprised.

“Sorry.” Amelia told him. “But sometimes you have a tendency to act like you’re the only person in the room, particularly when you get worked up.”   
  


“No I don’t!”

“You do. And I know you don’t realise it, and I know it’s hard for you to admit it, but you do. And if we’re going to keep working together I’m going to need you to at least let me speak”

Gray wanted to argue further, but the Machine cut him off. The plan, the plan first, he could sort this out later.

“Right, sorry. What were you saying?”

“I was asking, are you suggesting that we create a fake threat to lure Carmen back, so we can question her directly?”

Gray grinned. “Exactly.”

“But how are we going to do that? I mean, a 23 year old lighting tech’s-”

“24. My birthday was a week ago.”

Amelia gave him a look.

“Sorry.”

“So, how do you expect to create this ‘threat.’?

“That was the part where I got stuck. Do you have anything?”

Amelia paused, then looked down. “I might. But there’s actually been something I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“Yeah? Shoot.”

“Carmen told you that she was fighting evil, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Did she ever tell you exactly  _ what _ she was fighting? Like did she mention any organisation, or person, or anything?”

“No, she didn’t. I think she just meant evil in general.”

“Oh, okay.” Amelia said, looking thoughtful. “I have an idea for how we might be able to lure Carmen, but I’m going to need some time to think about it. Can I come to your apartment, next Friday?”

“Sure.”

“Easy. In the meantime, call me if you find anything else out.”

Amelia pulled out her phone, and Gray remembered something he had been meaning to ask her, as well.

“Amelia?”

“Mm?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you save me, back in the circuit breaker room, when it was clear that you were morally against the whole thing? And why are you helping me now, when you know the truth?

Amelia looked at him.

“It’s a stupid reason, really.”

“Ok.”

“Like, really dumb.”

“That’s fine.”

She sighed, “If you can’t already tell, I really like comics. Always have. Manga, anime, games, all that. When I was a kid, I used to dream of one day getting magical powers, y’know, one day becoming a hero. A chosen one. Saving lives, helping people, all of that. Anything to get away from my boring, suburban life. And, it’s just….” Amelia looked down. “I guess… I never let that go, y’know? And… back in that room, when I threatened you with the taser, you were just so… calm. Put together.”

“I’ll tell you now, I’ve never been more scared then I was in that room.”

“But… I don’t know, you just reminded of one of those heroes. Laughing in the face of danger. Completely unfazed. Witty. And it hit me, what if this was that moment? What if this was finally what I’ve been waiting for? What if I was about to destroy my one chance at what I’d always wanted? So I let you go. Against my better judgement. But it was still my foot in the door. I couldn’t let that go.”

Gray looked at her, understanding flooding in.

“For what it’s worth,” He told her, “you saved all three of us back in that circuit room. You saved me from turning myself in, and now your helping me save my friends. It might not be exactly what you wanted, but, as far as heroes go, I reckon you’ve done a pretty good job of it.”

Amelia smiled, but there was something sad in it, like there was something more to it than what she’d told him.

“Thanks, Gray.”

*** 

Gray had spent the week looking, but he hadn’t found anything. Admittedly, it was incredibly difficult trying to find something that resolutely did not want to be found, but he still approached Friday night in a resolute grump with himself. He just hoped that Amelia’s plan would pull through, and that at least  _ she _ would have something he could use. 

So when he let Amelia in, he was hopeful that she would again come through for him.

Amelia came in and sat down, tapping her fingers against her thigh. One hand was playing around with something in her pocket. Gray sat down across from her, reminiscent of just a fortnight ago, but he didn’t feel the same (which he supposed was a good thing), but still. 

“So, did you come up with something?” He asked her. Amelia shifted, still not meeting his eye.

“Amelia?”

“I did.” She said, and something in her voice made him realise that something was very,  _ very  _ wrong.

“And…?” He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to know the answer.

The hand in her pocket curled into a fist, like it was gripped around something. 

“I’m sorry, Gray.” Amelia said, looking genuinely remorseful.

Then she pulled her hand out of her pocket, and Gray’s heart dropped several feet, almost to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! I hope the next decade brings you all something good! I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone who's taken the time to support this fic, your kudos and comments have been half the reason I keep writing! I can't wait to see where 2020 will take us!


	16. Toby, and the First Steps to Joining Morally Dubious Secret Agencies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toby and Matt have 2 months to kill, learn the basics of V.I.L.E. operations, and make a new friend of an old enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been made aware that the cliffhanger ending on my last chapter has annoyed some. To which, let me just say: Sorry about this.

Being kept in the penthouse suite of what he imagined was a 5 star hotel had its perks, but after not leaving for 2 months straight, Toby was very glad to be heading out. It wasn’t that he didn’t like living there, it was just that staring at the same rooms for 8 weeks with no breaks grated on a person. And their internet was being fettered with. Wherever they were, they had no contact back home, or regarding Australia at all. The whole place could’ve burnt down, for all he knew.

Admittedly, it wasn’t what Toby expected, waking up with a skin-splitting headache and a mouth drier than sandpaper, to be lying in a large double bed in a room that looked like an IKEA display gone designer. He was confused for a long, long, minute, before the memories of last night came back in.

Cleo.

Crow.

V.I.L.E.

The needle.

He needed to get out of here. He needed to run. Where was Matt? Run Find Matt and Was she safe? run. Get out of here before they caught him they’ve probablyalreadycaught _ himohgod. _

He scrambled out of the bed.

And immediately hit the floor. As it turns out, post drug haze and multiple bedsheets are  _ not _ a good combination. Who knew? 

His muscles were already heavy enough as it was, but now moving them seemed like a great feat in itself. And now somebody was coming. Nice one, Toby.

It was the second shock of the day, when the door opened and it wasn’t some sort of armed guard coming to subdue him, but Matt. Looking as put together as she ever did, not handcuffed, not compromised. She took one look at him, on the floor, and burst out laughing.

He tried to glower at her, but he couldn’t find the strength.

“You need a hand?” She asked, when she could speak. 

He tried to say something, but all that came out was some sort of croaking noise.

“Here.” Matt came to his side, and helped him back onto the bed. She poured him a glass from the jug on the bedside table, and handed it to him. He drained it, and another 2, before he even remotely felt human. 

“What happened?” he asked, when he could speak again, but his voice was still raspy. “Where are we? What’s going on? Are you ok?”

“Dude. Calm down. We’re fine.” Matt told him. “That ‘Crow’ guy was here when I woke up. He explained everything.”

“And?”

“Well, in 2 months time, we will be official students of V.I.L.E Academy!” Matt started, with a brightness that wasn’t entirely sincere, or entirely mocking, “But, until then, they needed a safe place to keep us, given our ‘situation’. So we’re staying here until class starts.”

“Ok, and where’s ‘here’?”

“He didn’t tell me. But, judging from what I’ve seen out the windows, we’re somewhere in Asia. Singapore’s my bet. We can do what we want while we’re here, but we can’t leave the penthouse, so make yourself comfortable. And our internet usage is being watched, so maybe not  _ too _ comfortable.”

“Noted.”

“Regardless, I’m in the room next door over and these walls aren’t as thick as they could be, so if I hear anything I will not hesitate to kick you out the window.”

“Also noted. When did all this happen?”

“Well, I woke up about at about 6 this morning, and Crow came around 10.”

“How long does it take before I stop feeling like complete and utter shit?”

“A while.” Matt grinned, patting his shoulder amicably as he groaned. “I’ll grab us some food. We have free range on the room service, so that’s a plus!”

***

When they left the hotel, they were blindfolded and buckled into the back of a car. Toby was a little bit irritated, they were nearly students, this top secret shtick was getting real old. Not to mention the fact that they made no attempts to hide their location when they were living in the penthouse. Aside from the locked doors, and the tracked internet, they were given completely free reign. Sure, the doors were locked with something tougher than either of them could crack, and the internet trackers did mean that he couldn’t watch porn (but, considering an auto-filled search bar that he decidedly  _ doesn’t _ mention, he felt like that would hit Matt harder than it would hit him), but aside from that, they were given no restrictions on what they could do. V.I.L.E had apparently been to their apartments, because their stuff had been delivered not long after they were, but anything they asked for, within reason, was supplied to them. They had free reign on the TV, on the room service, anything. 

“Hey, Toby, have you ever seen Peaky Blinders?”

“I’ve seen enough of it to know that you’re going to make me watch it, regardless of what I tell you.”

“So I can put it on?”

“Fine.”

They got through the entire thing in a week. And several more series after that. It was nice, because then Toby felt like they were just friends watching TV together, not two future agents of a top secret organisation, forced to leave their third behind for one final grasp at freedom. 

Annnd he was going back there again. Great.

He thought about Gray a lot, over those two months, in the moments when he could let his mind wander freely, when Matt was asleep, late at night when he lay awake. He couldn’t talk about it, couldn’t bring it up without Matt becoming completely closed off. She wouldn’t even say his name, in the rare occasions when he did. Toby wondered if she could. And so Gray had become a permanent lull in their conversation, a question that forever remained unanswered, and Toby found himself grasping onto any memory he had of him, terrified that he would slip away completely, become nothing more than the vague concept of Toby’s grief. An echo of a friend.

Gray had the faintest spattering of freckles under his eyes. They became more prominent when he was out in the sun.

Gray’s eyes used to be darker than they were now.

When he had first met Gray, properly, his knuckles were bruised. Toby never found out why.

Gray had found him in the library. Toby was sleeping in one of the aisles (he did that a lot, back then).

Gray’s hands were calloused when he helped him up. They’d been calloused ever since.

Gray had seen something in him not even Toby had, back then.

Toby held onto his memories too tightly, held onto Gray too tightly, before his own insecurity let him slip away. Because there were times, there were always times, particularly when the heist was in its final stages, in the worst parts of Toby’s mind, when would ask himself if Gray ever actually cared about him at all, or if he was just using him, for pity or for the moral high ground or for something else entirely. Sometimes Toby would see a look in Gray’s eyes, something he didn’t understand, something he couldn’t define, something that just made him and Matt into pawns to be moved to Gray’s will. But he couldn’t think like that, not anymore, there was only one place those types of thoughts lead, and Toby never wanted to go back there, back to that paranoia, that mistrust of everyone and everything around him, terrified of their endgame, terrified of what that meant.

Matt didn’t talk about Gray. Matt didn’t talk about any of it, about the life they’d left behind, but every now and again he’d hear soft crying coming out of her bedroom, and he’d go in and they’d sit there, on the end of her bed, her head on his shoulder until she’d cried herself out. Toby never asked and Matt never offered, but they both knew.

He hugged her tightly, all the same.

***

Countess Cleo came to see them two days after they’d woken up.    
  
“I take it you’ve found your living arrangements suitable?” She asked. Then, not waiting for an answer, she continued. “Before you start at V.I.L.E, it’s important that you establish some background knowledge, so to speak.”

“Ok.”

“V.I.L.E. does work and engages operatives from all over the globe. Whilst we use English as our official ‘lingua franca,’ giving the two of you an advantage, we do work in situations that require knowledge of other languages and cultures.

At V.I.L.E, we consider genuine communication between our operatives to be of  _ utmost _ importance, especially with the times we have reached. Therefore, in the next few months I have tasked the two of you to study the mother tongues of those who will soon become your classmates and fellow operatives.” She told them. “I have provided you the best resources we have, and whilst we could not provide you with native speaking partners or teachers, you’ll be able to find some sort of replacement within each other.”

Countess Cleo stood up, announcing their brief meeting over. “I expect that the two of you will study hard. I am  _ not _ in any position to take failure.”

She left, the door clicking shut behind her. 

“Well, that’s reassuring.” Matt said, looking after her “We’d better get started, then.”

Toby had taken languages in high school, which, as he learnt later on, was one of the many privileges high-end Sydney high school provided. However, taking up 4 at once was  _ far _ above his pay grade. Sure, high school  _ had _ taught him the basics of French, but he hadn’t taken it since Year 8, and he was quickly remembering why.

“Can they not have three words that are spelt completely differently yet all sound  _ the fucking same _ ?!”

“Welcome to French.” Matt was taking to it a lot better than he was. She was better with the accents, too, and she made him run his pronunciation over and over again until it was up to her standards. But she always spoke so stiffly, and it was clear that she was running over the words in her internal translator before she said them aloud, but Toby supposed that that would clear up once she could meet another native speaker.

Out of all the languages they had to learn, Russian was by far Toby’s favourite. He liked learning the new alphabet, liked seeing how the words could translate one collection of letters to another. And a smaller part of him liked it because Matt struggled with it. He knew it was petty, but Matt had taken to both French and Portugese like a duck to water, when Toby was still struggling to get the grasp of either of them, it felt nice to be better than her at it for once.

“I wonder who our classmates are going to be.” Matt said, as they were studying Korean grammar. 

“Well, we have some idea where they’re from.”   
  


“Yeah, but we don’t know what they’ll be like. Do you reckon we’ll get along with them? I mean, we have to train together for a year, it would suck if we didn’t.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. We work with people we don’t like all the time. Anyway, when you’re forced to spend a year together, you kind of get used to one another.”

“How many of us do you think there are?”

“Well, there’s gotta be at least four… including us that makes six… but there could be others who already speak English, so there could be more.”

“Yeah.”

“But considering as this is a top secret agency, and Countess Cleo keeps suggesting that they’re under some sort of strain, I wouldn’t say there are too many of us, though.”

“Hm.” Matt looked away, concerned. 

“You’ll do fine, Matt. I’m sure they’ll all like you. Anyway, I’ll fight anyone who gives you shit.”

Matt laughed. 

“What? I will.”

“Toby, I love you, but you couldn’t fight a punching bag if it taught you how.” Matt told him. “I appreciate the sentiment, though!”

“Oh, shut up.”

***

When their blindfolds were finally taken off, Toby was immediately blinded by how bright it was (which seemed to be a common trend around here. Guess it comes with the top secret territory). Squinting against the light, Toby began to realise they were on a dock. At the ocean. In some very deserted part of whatever country they were in (Toby agreed with Matt’s theory on the Singapore part, judging from the view from the hotel). And there was a boat already on the water, (a shocking discovery, Toby was sure) with two surly looking men at the helm.

Crow was standing next to the steps. “Welcome aboard.” He called out. “This’ll take you directly to V.I.L.E Island. Or, the new V.I.L.E. Island, at least.”

They climbed aboard. Admittedly, it was a very nice boat, but V.I.L.E as a rule seemed to have the best of everything. It also appeared to be a trip that would take a couple of days, considering as some of their things had been moved into rooms on the lower floors. When they were finally settled, Crow gave the helmsman the cue, and they were off. Toby leant against the rail, watching the land get smaller and smaller the further away they got, not realising how much he missed the sunlight until he felt it on his skin again, or the breeze, as he watched two seagulls hunt over the water. 

They reminded him of Forks and Spoons, the magpie couple who lived in the tree near his apartment. Toby loved those magpies, and they seemed to like him too, considering they would perch on his windowsill, every now and again. They must’ve liked it when he sang to them, because they brought Sporks along too when he was old enough to fly. He never sung to anyone else, except Bertie when their mother was at her worst. He wondered if they missed him, if they were even aware that he was gone. But he pushed them aside and headed in, where Matt and Crow were sitting in a boat’s equivalent of a lounge room.

“Alright?” Crow asked him, when he came in. 

“Yeah.” He replied, taking a free seat. Crow seemed a lot more friendlier when he wasn’t tying them to chairs, and Toby was a little less nervous this time around. He was still wearing the outfit they had first seen him in, but it was the first time Toby had seen his face in full, without the weird beak goggle combo he had going on. His skin was covered in freckles and incredibly pale, or maybe that was just the stark contrast against his hair, which was inky black and a mess of curls, similar to Toby’s, in a way, but Toby’s hair was a warmer shade. He had high cheekbones and a straight nose, and combined with the uniform, he looked like the villian of a fantasy novel. But when he smiled at them, a lopsided grin, his face changed completely, and suddenly he was someone else, someone roguish and clever, someone somehow less threatening and more threatening at the same time. It was like watching two characters exist in one person, and it was completely disarming. 

“Nervous?” he asked them, “I nearly cakked myself, my first day.”

“A little bit.” Matt admitted. “I just have no clue what we’re supposed to expect.”

“Well, you’re trained in everything related to becoming successful V.I.L.E. agents, which is to say, thieves. Infiltration, disguise, pickpocketing, physical combat, all of it. You two have a lot to learn.”

“How long does it take?”

“You take your final exams at the end of the year. You pass, you’re official V.I.L.E. operatives.”

“And if we fail?”

“You die. They kill you.” Crow laughed at their panicked expressions. “I’m kidding. They just make you do the year again.” 

Matt nodded. “There must be a lot to learn in a year.”

“Better start studying.”

“How difficult is it?” Toby asked.

“Depends how you take it.” Crow told him “They really use the training to identify your strengths. What kind of work you’d be best suited for. See, for me, I’m terrible at hand to hand combat and direct confrontation, but I’m excellent at stealth and analysis. So they have me do work that involves gathering information, or staying out of sight. Stuff that requires the high ground. That’s how I got my wings.”

He tapped his shoulder, and they popped out with a small ‘click’. Toby and Matt both jumped.

“Pretty cool, huh? I made them myself!” 

“You made them yourself?!”

“How do they work?”

“I make a lot of tech for V.I.L.E.. Stuff for other operatives, mainly. These beauties were the first things I ever made, took me months. They’re closer to gliders than anything, but they can boost me when I travelling long distances.”

“Cool!” Matt said, looking at the gliders in admiration. “Does that mean we’ll get our own tech too?” 

“When you’re operatives, yes.”

“Hell yeah!”

“Is that why people call you Little King Crow?” Toby asked. 

“No, they call me that because it’s my codename. I based my outfit around it. My actual name’s Morgan, but you can call me Crow, for short.”

“Huh. Nice to officially meet you, Crow.” 

“You too, Toby.”

***

The next 3 days on the boat went by faster than Toby could keep track of them. Despite their rough start, they got on surprisingly well with Crow. He would tell them horror stories from his training, tell them about his favourite missions, give them advice and what not.

“So, I’ve got the vase in one hand, 18th century bayonet in the other, I take off in whatever direction I can, and next thing I know I’m fighting a goose in a barnhouse outside of Provence.”

“Let me guess, you didn’t win that one.”

“And that’s why geese are Satan’s greatest curse upon us.”

The more Toby knew Crow, the more he realised how much of an act he put on when he was working. Little King Crow, operative of V.I.L.E., was a surly, imposing person who knew too much about you and used every opportunity to remind you of that. Crow, future coworker and boat chaperone, was an introverted tech nerd with a flair for the edgy and the melodramatic, who couldn’t fight you to save his life. The Crow they knew was prone to hours spent locked up in his room, working, and they only interrupted him out just to make sure he ate and got the minimum requirement of social interaction. Or whenever they had a question. Or whenever they needed a deciding factor in an argument. Or whenever they wanted to play cards. Honestly, Toby was surprised that Crow wasn’t sick to shit of them, by the end of it, and if he was, he was doing a very good job covering it up. 

“Dr. Bellum’s asked me to help her with some equipment.” He said, when they asked what he was working on. “She’s one of the faculty. Generally, Countess Cleo prefers to keep her agents close to her, matter of pride, I think, but my tech’s too invaluable for me not to work with her.”

“What do you mean, ‘keep her agents’?

“Oh, right. You wouldn’t know. Essentially, when a V.I.L.E. faculty member picks their new recruits, they’re referred to as ‘belonging to them.’ For example, us three belong to Countess Cleo. Once you graduate, you can go work with who you want, even become agents of one faculty, but some teachers are more protective about their agents than others. Countess Cleo is one of those teachers. She’s very selective of who becomes one of her agents, only trainees she’s picked specially have a shot at it, and then those agents are barred from working for anyone else. I’m one of the exceptions, and she did  _ not _ let me go easy, I’ll tell you. There was a big fight about it, she’s very competitive, Cleo.

Anyway, Dr. Bellum asked me to make something that could trip electricity fields in an area. Think security cameras, alarm systems, all without notifying security that they’d been disarmed. But I’m more of a accessories and handhelds person, long range external electronics aren’t my expertise. I don’t know why she’s asking me to do this”

“Huh.” Matt said. “Well, a friend of ours back home was an electrician, he might’ve been able to help you out.”

Crow looked away. “This would be way above his skillset. Anyway, we’re not allowed to talk about our lives before V.I.L.E., so maybe keep that to yourselves.”

*** 

Toby didn’t know where they were, when the boat finally pulled up to a dock on what looked like some deserted island. Except that it wasn’t deserted. Instead, towering over them was a glistening building of dark chrome and glass, glistening against the sunlight, nearly blinding him, layers of windows to dark to see through, chrome reflecting green and blue in the midday sun. Sleek, smaller buildings emerged from the crux, spreading further back than Toby could take in. Up ahead of them, off the dock and up the cement path, two glass doors led inside, their clarity a contrast against the dark colour scheme of the rest of the building, a group of people were standing. Waiting. Toby knew that he had gotten a first look at the rest of his classmates.

There was an admiring whistle from behind them. Crow had gotten off the boat, and was staring up at the building. He was back in his uniform, lightweight black material, with leather boots and gloves, and a belt with various objects attached. He was wearing his crown and his goggles, tinted navy blue so they couldn’t see his eyes, but his beak was in his hand so he could speak.

“Not bad!” He said, “I wasn’t sure what to expect, with the new campus.”

“Did the old one look like this?” Matt asked him.

“Similar. Not as fancy though. Oh, that reminds me! One more thing, I’m gonna need your phones.”

“What? Why?”

“No technology is allowed on campus. Nothing you can use to communicate with the outside world. So, hand them over.”

Toby was immediately suspicious. Sure, he liked Crow, but he was also an expert thief who got a lot of joy from messing with people. Toby was not about to push his luck, regardless of how outlandish it may be.

“You’re not fucking with us, are you?”

“No, no, I mean it. Trust me, you do not want to get caught with one.”

“Fine.” Toby pulled his phone out of his pocket, and handed it to Crow. He took it, and looked expectantly at Matt.

“I dropped my phone back in Sydney when you first grabbed me. Haven’t seen it since.”

Crow gave her a scrutinising look. “Are you sure? Because I’m serious, if they see you with a phone, they  _ will _ kick you out, no argument.”

“Toby, have you seen me use my phone once in the past 2 months?”

“Now that you mention it, I don’t think so.”

“Fine. I’ll take your word for it.” Crow pocketed Toby’s phone, and then looked at him. “Word of advice, though,” he said, “I was being serious, but don’t just take someone on their word here. We love taking the slag out of the trainees, and you’ll end up looking like a complete twot. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Crow put on his beak, giving him the appearance of a very edgy plague doctor. “I have some new recruits to go terrify, so pretend you don’t know me.” 

He headed down the dock, turning around to give them a wave. “I’ll see you around.”

“Bye.” They waved back. Crow tapped his shoulder twice, and jumped out of sight.

***

Only when they were sat in an auditorium too large for the amount of people there were (8, including them) did Toby’s nerves really reach their pinnacle. In the minutes in which they were waiting at the entrance, before the doors opened and they were led inside by  _ another _ surly looking worker, Toby tried to assess who these other people were. They all seemed nice enough, too blinded by their nerves for him to make any sort of genuine observation, all except for one, a girl with a red bob and a long skirt, sitting at the end of his row, confident as anything. There was something about her, in the way she sat, the way she held herself, that Toby didn’t trust, he got the distinct feeling that she thought she was better than him. But he couldn’t look at her for long, as there was a clearing of the throat from the front. A large, burly woman was on stage, behind a lectern.

“Welcome to V.I.L.E.” She began, in a thick Texan accent. “I am Coach Brunt, one of our faculty. You are the first class of our new facility. So before we begin, I’d just like to run over a couple of ‘house rules.’

First of all, as I’m sure y’all’ve been told, you can have no connection with the outside world whilst you are trainin’ here. While you are trainees, this will be your life. V.I.L.E. Island will be your home, your fellow trainees, your family. You may have no connection to your former lives before becomin’ V.I.L.E. operatives. As trainees you may refer to yourself only by your first names, and y’all will be choosin’ code names over the year that will become your new, official names.

As a new class, your training regimes have been updated from what we usually teach here at V.I.L.E. You eight will be trained at a higher calibre from your past trainees, and you will demonstrate that when you are official agents. However, before you can join our fold, you must prove your value to us as members. You will be tested at the end of the year, and I expect that you will all prove yourselves to bring the new age to V.I.L.E, and help us reach heights we never have before.

But, until then, consider yourselves  _ official _ trainees of V.I.L.E.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, as someone who's biggest qualms with the show is how badly they've written an Australian character, writing both Texan and Irish characters in one chapter was terrifying. So if you're either of those things, I'm so sorry (also feel free to correct me cause these characters are sticking around).


	17. Gray, the Bait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelia plays her hand

Gray had never had a woman tie him to a chair before, and, if he was entirely honest, he didn’t expect the first time it happened to be quite under these circumstances. 

So, when he came to, all he could say was, this was a surprise.

When Gray finally woke up, he couldn’t see a thing. At first he thought it was some kind of sleep paralysis, some weird nightmare. But then the events of that night came pouring back in, Amelia, the needle, the drug, all of it. His arm was still twinging from where Amelia stuck the needle in. It used to be a gas, she told him, his vision blurry and his speech slurred, but they changed it into an injectable chemical, less chance of a misfire, that way. They were a bitch to get, she said, they weren’t about to hand out them out to people who weren’t even official agents, Amelia had to do a lot of convincing to get her hands on some. But that didn’t matter. She had gotten them in the end.

It felt like his head had been filled with cotton. He tried his hands, but they wouldn’t budge. That much didn’t surprise him. Neither would his feet. He was stuck, completely, and he couldn’t see a thing. 

He could hear someone talking, somewhere to his left. It was Amelia, his brain supplied eventually. Who else could it have been, after all. 

“Yes, I’ve got him sedated. He should be fine until we can figure out what to do next. We’re in his apartment right now, but I’ll be moving him to one of our meetup points for pickup.”

There was a pause.

“Yes, I’ll bring the plans.”

Another pause.

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m only doing my job.”

Again.

“I’ll see you then. Bye”

Gray heard footsteps, but he still jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“You’re awake.” She said. 

Gray’s tongue felt like syrup in his mouth, but he managed to speak.

“The blindfold’s a bit much.”

He could practically hear Amelia rolling her eyes.

“Maybe,” her voice grew closer to his ear, making him jump, and her grip on his shoulder tightened. “But I’m sure Carmen will like it.” 

“Oh, fuck you.” 

His shoulder was released.

“Well, it looks like we’ve got around… however long it takes before Carmen gets here.” He heard more footsteps, and then a soft  _ thwump _ in front of him. “So you better make yourself comfortable. You probably won’t be moving for a while.”

“Thanks, I wasn’t aware.”

It was quiet for several minutes, before Gray, finding the silence oppressive, spoke again.

“So, who do you like~?”

There was an exasperated sigh.

“You know, your inability to take things seriously is going to get you killed one day.”

“Probably, but it won’t be by a girl playing spy agency.”

“Hey!”

“Exactly how long have you been working for them, anyway?”

“Since I was 14.”

“What sort of agency employs a child to do their dirty work?”

“I wasn’t doing their dirty work, I was gathering information! There’s a difference!”

“That’s still willingly leading a child into potentially life-threatening situations, Amelia!”

“What does it matter? I was good at my job!” She was starting to get defensive, he could tell.

“You were 14! You shouldn’t have  _ been _ good at your job!”

“I don’t need to justify myself to you!”

“You tied me to a chair, I think some justification is owed!”

“Can you move on from that!?”

“Considering I can’t move at all, no!”

“Just shut up, Gray!” Amelia snapped, and Gray got the feeling that he probably back off.

So he did.

***

Gray didn’t know how much time had passed since he’d woken up. His wrists were aching, but the rope around them was tightly bound, so he knew that moving his hands to much was a bad idea. He sat there, straining for any sound out of the ordinary, but all he could hear was Amelia, doing whatever it was she was doing (not talking to him, that was for damn sure). But outside, he could hear life going on as normal, the sounds of cars, snippets of laughter, people talking loudly in the street. He supposed to the rest of Sydney, it was just another Friday night. No one else knew what kind of situation he was in. No one knew what was going on inside the apartment.

“What time is it?” He asked eventually.

“We’ve been here for about 4 hours.” Came Amelia’s reply, still a little short.

“Could I get a drink?”

“Sure.”

There was a rustling of moving cloth, and then footsteps. The sound of a cupboard opening.

And piercing sound, high pitched, sudden, and tinny. It sounded like a combination of glass being scratched and something being drilled.

“What was that?” He demanded, trying to turn his head in the direction it was coming from, but it didn’t matter, he still couldn’t see anything.

It stopped, briefly, then started again, louder this time, and more persistent.

“I think it’s showtime.” Was all he heard back.

The sound stopped again, suddenly, and the quiet was jarring for a few moments. Then there was a crash, sounding distant from where Gray was sitting. Then a  _ thud _ , closer this time.

“Couldn’t have just broken the window like a normal person, had to be extra” He heard a mutter. But she was right. It was showtime.

Carmen was here.

“Nice to see you could finally join us, Miss. Sandiego.” That cold edge was back on Amelia’s voice again. “But I suppose it’s only fair, after all, you came here as quick as you could, right?”

“I don’t know who you are, but  _ let him go _ .” The second voice, Carmen, said, both panicked and angry. It was higher pitched than usual, and Gray, with a wave of panic, realised why.

It was higher pitched than usual because it wasn’t Carmen. 

Whoever this third person was in his apartment, it wasn’t Carmen. 

This didn’t make sense. Carmen was the only person who could’ve figured it out, could’ve known he was here. Amelia made sure of that, he was sure of that. But this third person who was trying to talk Amelia down definitely  _ was not Carmen _ .

_ She just can’t be bothered to save you. You’re just not worth her time, obviously.  _

He couldn’t say anything or he’d give it away. He needed to think, he needed the space to think. He was in the dark, he was staring out and he slowly, slowly calmed himself down, controlled his panic and, almost unknowingly, his anger, trying his best to make it seem imperceptible to the voices outside. Because if either of them caught the hint, he’d be screwed. 

Amelia thought that this girl, with her strange American accent, was Carmen. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or not, yet. Who was this girl? If she was with Carmen, and Gray’s mind was ticking very fast here, then that could mean she was one of Carmen’s coworkers, who had gotten the message and come in Carmen’s place. Or maybe she wasn’t friendly at all. Maybe she wasn’t trying to save him, she was trying to take him. Maybe in going with her, he was jumping out of the frying pan, straight into the fire. Gray tuned in, looking for some slip, some explanation of exactly who this girl was, and he didn’t have to tune in hard, she was talking a lot. And loudly;

“Let me guess” The girl’s voice said, “You’re an A.C.M.E. agent”

“You could say that. I’m not  _ officially  _ an A.C.M.E. agent, no, that’s where you come in, but I’ve been affiliated with them for a while now.”

“How?”

“Oh, you know, the basic stuff. Information, tracking, nothing too big, but enough to make a name for myself. See, I was tasked a couple months ago to get information on one Graham Marks. According to the higher ups, he’s  _ quite _ a close friend of yours, and you are _ quite _ unpopular with us. Well, it’s a good thing we just  _ happened _ to work together, see, it helped me realise that, maybe I could get more than just information off of him, if I was smart enough about it. And I  _ was _ smart enough about it. After all, for a friend of yours, he’s awfully defenceless.”

“I am no-”

“Nobody cares what you have to say anymore,  _ Gray _ , least of all me.” Amelia’s voice was frigid. It was almost like being back in the Opera House again.

“So that’s why you’re doing this.” The second voice said, trembling with anger. “To bait  _ me. _ ”

“Exactly!” This time she sounded gleeful, excited. “Do you realise how much they’d respect me if  _ I _ brought in  _ the _ Carmen Sandiego? Forget official agent, I could become one of the most powerful people in the organisation! You really think I would just let an opportunity like that go?” She laughed. “And luckily for me, You just ended up right where I needed you to be. So do me a favour and give up, Miss Sandiego, you’re not in any position not to.”

“Says who?” The second voice demanded. “What’ll you do if I don’t comply? Tie me to a chair in your apartment?”

“Well, you could say no, I mean, there’s no stopping you.” There was a rustling of cloth. “But then we’ll just have to see how many blasts our friend Graham here can take with  _ this _ before you change your mind. Or before he collapses. It’ll be very informative.”    
  


“No! Don’t do this, it’s not worth it!”

“Oh, I assure you it is!”

There was a tense pause, before the second voice began again.

“How old are you, anyway? You’re a child! You can’t take on government agencies!”

Something about that statement struck him as odd. Not that the girl didn’t have a point, she did, but it was such a sudden change of subject, particularly after Amelia had threatened to electrocute him repeatedly, which wasn’t generally something that one brushed over. And her voice changed, too, when she said it. It got louder, all of a sudden, slightly more pronounced, dramatic. It was almost like she was trying to distract someone.

_ Because that’s exactly what she’s trying to do. _

Which meant that she was trying to divert Amelia’s attention from something.

_ Obviously, but from what? _

Which meant that she had a plan, that there was someone else coming in from the wings. And then Gray knew exactly what happened to Carmen.

_ And I suppose that clicking noise is her, too? _

And then he heard it too, so soft against the cacophony that was the conversation in front of him. The soft clicking,

As is of a lock turning.

“Wait!”

The door burst open. 

“Wha- Ah! Get off me!!” 

In front of him, there was a loud  _ thump _ , followed by the erratic noises the of what could only have been a struggle. Gray didn’t know who was where, he could feel someone trying to untie the knot at the back of his head, and he wished that he could do something else other than sit in this stupid  _ fucking  _ chair and listen.

  
  


“I said get  _ off _ !” There was another sound, a small grunt, then the sickening sound of fist against flesh. The sound of something heavy hitting the floor. Heavy breathing. And it was all over. 

Gray didn’t want to think about what’d just happened, about what he would see when the blindfold came off.  _ If  _ the blindfold came off. But, judging by the knot that was finally coming loose, that was a fairly certain outcome.

Gray squinted against the sudden influx of light. His eyes quickly adjusting, he looked around. He was backed up against the wall, next to one of the couches. And there was Carmen, right in front of him, currently working at the knot tying his wrists. In front of him, there was a girl in red,  _ another _ girl in red, checking the sprawled out form of Amelia. Gray let out a sharp exhale as he saw her. Amelia’s eyes were closed, there was a trickle of blood down her face, and he could the beginnings of some vivid bruising around her eyes, but she was out cold. 

“She’s just knocked out, Carm, I think we’re fine.” So this girl had dressed up in Carmen’s place. Clever. Gray stared at Amelia, looking for any sign of movement, any sign of her waking up. She looked so small, lying there, so unlike the person he had heard before. 

“We’ll call emergency services to the apartment after we leave.” Carmen said “She’ll have some work explaining all this, but I’m sure A.C.M.E. will get her out of it.”

There was a tug, and he felt rope pool out from between his wrists, freeing them. He rubbed them, stretching out his fingers, feeling his knuckles crack. He looked at Carmen, taking her in. She was wearing her red hoodie again, her hair was up in its usual style, and she smiled at him, all warmth, and Gray, despite everything he had thought about her just hours before, smiled back.

“Are you alright?” She knelt down so they were face to face, and inspected him for injuries, turning his face to get a better look.

“I’m fine. It’s good to see you again, Carmen.”

He leant down to untie one of his ankles, Carmen untying the other one, and in a few minutes, he was blissfully and finally free. He stood up and stretched, feeling more of his joints crack as they were finally moved again. 

“Thanks.”

“What happened?” Carmen asked him, looking at Amelia’s unconscious form.

“Oh, y’know, the old ‘coworker is revealed to be a government agent who’s got you top of their shitlist’ shtick. Nothing special.”

Carmen looked at him, quickly. “What did she tell you?”

“Nothing. All I heard was from what she told your friend. She grabbed me to try and get to you.”

“Yeah, but she’s no match for Carmen Sandiego and Co.!” The other girl said, and as he turned, he got a proper look at the second voice for the first time. She was a stocky woman, with red hair and freckles, and she looked as different from Carmen as day did night. But she was wearing Carmen’s signature red coat and hat, and to someone who had never met Carmen before (i.e. the girl she had just been talking to, now out of it on the floor) the difference would be unknowable. 

The other girl smiled at him. “I’m Ivy, I work with Carmen.” 

“I’m Graham, but I think you already know that.” He walked towards her, his hand outstretched. Ivy stepped over Amelia to meet him halfway. “It’s nice to meet you, regardless.”

And that one step was all Amelia needed.

She shot up. Her hand moved to her pocket, and before Ivy could even jump away in shock, before anyone could react at all. Amelia slammed herself into Ivy’s legs, and they toppled to the floor. Carmen ran in to help, Gray behind her, but the fight was so brutal they couldn’t do anything without risking hitting the wrong person. For one, harrowing minute it was impossible to tell who was going to win. But then Ivy slammed Amelia’s head against the floor and, with a noise that Gray would pay any amount of money to never hear again, Amelia went still. Ivy staggered to her feet. She was shaky, and multiple times she tried to speak, but nothing came out. 

And Gray realised why, as he looked down. As he saw the needle stuck in Ivy’s thigh, the plunger pressed down. 

“ _ Ivy _ !” Carmen cried, and she tried to go to her. But she didn’t get very far. Not before Gray jammed the needle from his pocket into the junction where her neck met her shoulder, and pushed down.

He didn’t want to do that. He really didn’t. Not when Carmen stopped dead in shock, and turned him with such panic and betrayal in her eyes. But he couldn’t let her slip away again.

“Gray?” She said, but her voice was already weak. Behind him, he heard a thump, and knew Ivy was down. 

“I’m sorry, Carmen, I really am.” He told her, the guilt yellow and festering, grabbing her shoulders to hold her steady, but she was quickly fading out. “If it means anything, this isn’t what it looks like, I swear.”

But she was already out cold against his chest. 

He lay her down on the couch, and went to Amelia. She was still on the floor, and the taser lay discarded on the other side of the room. 

“Here.” He turned her head to take a look at the cut. It was a relatively small one on her temple, but the blood had already trailed down her face, and was dripping on the floor. He tried to wipe some of it away, but it was a futile effort. He remembered the sound of her head against the floor.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be” She said, sounding dazed. “Did you mean to do that? Distract her?”

“I saw you come to, just before you closed your eyes again.”

“I wish we didn’t have to drug them like that… I feel bad...” 

“I know. But we needed to.” He could see blood starting to stain Amelia’s collar. 

“We need to treat that cut.” He told her. “I think I’ve got a first aid kit somewhere.”

“We need to figure out what we’re going to do with those two.” She replied, gesturing to Ivy’s sleeping form. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, first.” Gray said, helping her up. She was shaky and unbalanced, Gray knew he should probably take her to a hospital, but that would raise too many questions, so his admittedly shitty care would have to do. 

Once Amelia was sat on his bathroom floor, and the first aid kit was found, Gray was trying to treat the wound the best he could (and thanking every god left that the kit came with instructions).

“Well, all in all…” Amelia slurred. “That went pretty terribly.”

“I took her for the lone ranger type. We didn’t account for the possibility that she’d bring someone else.”

“I shouldn’t have gotten distracted.” Amelia said.

“No, you were great back there. I get the feeling you like playing the evil mastermind a lot.”

“I do...”

“Though, I stand by what I said before.”

“What?”

“The blindfold was a bit much.”

“I thought it added to the aesthetic.”

“Still.”

Amelia smiled, but her eyes were still unfocused. “It was one hell of a ruse, though.”

“It was.”

“Let’s just be glad that she doesn’t have anymore backup.”

They were immediately interrupted by the buzzing noise of the intercom, ringing out through the apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was literally no reason for Amelia to go that hard, she's just that melodramatic.


	18. Gray, a Diplomat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Situations get explained, and questions are raised. Amelia has a concussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the late update, this chapter completely got away from me.

“I’m sorry, Gray.” Amelia said, looking genuinely remorseful.

Then she pulled her hand out of her pocket, and Gray’s heart dropped several feet, almost to the floor.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He jumped up, backing away from her and the needle.

“Oh don’t worry, it’ll just knock you out for a while. Calm down.”

“Just  _ knock me out _ !?”

Amelia winced slightly. “I probably should have left that for later. Ok, ok just sit down. I’ll explain.”

Gray stared at her, unmoving. Amelia sighed, and put the needle on the coffee table. “There, will you chill out now?”

He tentatively took his seat again. 

***

“Wait, just let me clarify here… You work for a secret agency. Called ACME.”

“Worked. I’ve kind of gone a bit rogue.”

“And you were asked to gather information on  _ me _ .”

“Yes.”

“But then you… didn’t.”

“Yeah.”

“Because of a hacker?”

“Player. Yes.”

“Who contacted you…”

“Uh huh.”

“ _ Also _ asking for information… about me.”

“Seems you’re popular.”

“Ok! Ummm…”

“Do you need a minute?”

  
“No, no, I’m fine… just…. What? What?!”

“I’m starting to realise that it’s a lot to take in… yeah…”

“Is this how other people feel when I tell them about Carmen!? Oh my god.”

“Yup.”

Gray decided that he’d take the time to process that later. If Amelia was serious about her plan, they were on a tight schedule.

“Ok, ok. I’m good. So, what exactly do you want me to do?”

“Get drugged and tied to a chair.”

“Ok!”

“I, well, there’s more to it than that.”

“Yeah, I’d hope so!”

“Well, it’s like I said, you’re popular. You’re being tracked by two organisations, one of which had recently called a hacker in to get more info on you even when you actively know one of the agents.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, yeah. Player works with Carmen. At least I think.”

“What!?”

“Probably should’ve mentioned that earlier.” Amelia said, more to herself than anything. “I made the connection when we were looking into the website. It was just a theory, until now.”

“And what’s that got to do with me getting tied to a chair?”

“Well, as far as I’m aware, Player’s tracking most of my movements on my phone. So, I’m gonna make a call to one of my ‘superiors,’ saying that I’ve captured you in a brave and powerful feat. I’ve got him in this specific address, where I will be keeping him for a specified amount of time.”

“And if Player’s tracking your calls… He’ll tell Carmen.”

“Carmen will come, and I’ll knock her out with this.” Amelia gestured to the needle on the table. “She wakes up, and we can ask her anything we want. She’ll be completely in our corner.”

“Wait, you’re not suggesting that we…”

Amelia nodded. “It’s not pleasant, but I think it’s our best option.”

“No. No. I am  _ not _ drugging her. No way.”

“Do you want to talk to Carmen or not?” Amelia asked. “We need to get her in one spot and  _ keep _ her there, or she’ll disappear and we’ll be back we’re we started. It’s like you said, she could be 10 metres away from you and vanish like  _ that _ .” Amelia snapped her fingers “It’s not nice, but it’s the only option I can think of.”

Gray stared at her. “What happened to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You lose your shit when you find out about the heist, nearly taser me, threaten to turn me in, but now you’re totally cool with baiting and drugging an innocent woman for information? You used to be so…”

“So, what?”

“Morally upright.”

“Yeah, and look where that got me.” Amelia huffed. “Selling information to people I can barely even trust.”

“Why work for them if you don’t trust them?”

“Because I used to, because I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was one of the good guys. But then Player contacts me, and then they tell me that ACME were not what they said they were, that my entire adolescence was a lie, and my entire future, a fraud. They told me that if I actually wanted to help someone, I turn over any future info I had on you to them.”

“And you believed them?” 

“I didn’t know what to believe! On one hand, there was this agency who had worked with me for  _ years _ , who I knew for a fact had stopped multiple criminal organisations, on the other, a complete stranger who hacked into my phone, told me ACME was evil and then demanded that I do the exact same thing ACME had me do. The answer should’ve been obvious, but... I couldn’t get it out of my head. I couldn’t shake what Player had said. I was confused, I was scared, scared that I had aided evil to flourish, scared that if I turned to Player I would be betraying an organisation meant to stop it. I knew that I would have to choose a side eventually, but I was so scared of getting it wrong that I couldn’t make a decision.”

“So what did you do?”

“The only thing I could. The only thing that wouldn’t force my hand to either side.” 

“You followed me.”

“It was the one thing I was assigned to do. If I just did was I was supposed to do, everything else would just figure itself out. I started using it as a means of escape, in the end. It took the robbery for me to finally decide whose side I was on.”

“Whose?”

“My own. I followed you into the circuit breaker room because I wanted to, and I let you go because I wanted to. I was tired of being a pawn in someone else’s game. I was the one making the calls on what was right and wrong.” Amelia’s voice was firm. “And I don’t like the idea of drugging Carmen, I really don’t, but I care about you far more than I care about her. I want to help you, so I’m making my call. I don’t think it’s right, but I do think it’s necessary. So I need you to be with me on this.” 

Gray looked at her, and then at the needle on the table. He couldn’t bring himself to hurt Carmen, regardless of how he felt about her right now, this felt like a step too far. But his own moral judgement had gotten him into this mess, maybe he needed Amelia’s to get him out of it.

And he trusted in hers. That, in the end, was what made him agree.

***

“Do you have to drug me, though?”

“We need to make it authentic. If not, Carmen might suspect that you’re in on it.”

“Ok, but don’t you have some other drug that can knock me out? Something liquid, maybe? Non-injectable?”

“Hey, it was hard enough to get these three. Something happened to the first batch, I’m told, and they weren’t about to hand them out to any one of their workers. Official agents only, apparently. 

So, I’ve got one needle in my pocket, one will be going into you, and the third’s in your pocket just in case. Everything’s accounted for, so let’s get started.” Amelia looked at the needle in her hand, poised to strike.

“Ok, we’re going to need this in a large muscle of yours, so, if you’d mind rolling up your sleeve?”

Gray played with the hem of his sleeve, pausing. 

“Do you really have to do this? Like, can’t we do… something else?”

“What? Scared of needles?” Amelia’s eyes widened when Gray didn’t respond. “Wait. Seriously? You’re scared of needles?” 

“No! I mean… maybe? Just… get it over with!” Gray wrenched his sleeve up to his shoulder.

“Ok… just give me a minute.” Amelia bent down, positioning the needle, and Gray suddenly understood what it felt like to be awaiting execution. He looked away, swallowing hard, and closed his eyes. 

“You ready?” She asked.

“Not-”

She jammed it in.

“Ow! Fuck!” He hissed. He felt the liquid going into him, then the needle was out, finally, and his muscles relaxed. The ordeal was over.

“See, was that so bad?” Amelia asked. Gray shook his head, slowly, his brain feeling just a little bit fuzzy. “Wow. This kicks in quick… Damn.” His words were already starting to sound distant to him. It was working.

“Yeah, it used to be a gas, but they changed it. Too many agents got hit trying to fire it.” Amelia told him. His vision was starting to get blurry. 

“You’re ok, you’re ok.” He heard Amelia, but it sounded like she was talking through water. He felt a hand on her shoulder, trailing up to his cheek. He looked at her, but his vision was slowly darkening, and her hand on his cheek was the last thing he felt before it all fell away.

***

The buzzing continued, long and drawn out. Then stopped. Then started again. It sounded like whoever was down there was hitting the button in frustration. They were very keen to get in, apparently.

Gray looked at Amelia, still leant against the shower glass. “I think you may have spoken too soon, Amelia.”

“Yes… I think I have…” Amelia sat up, looking at him with a sudden urgency. “What are we going to do?”

Gray thought quickly. If they let whoever this person was in, they might come with more firepower than either Gray or an injured Amelia could handle. If they didn’t, however, this person could call for backup, and then they’d  _ definitely _ come in with more firepower than either Gray or an injured Amelia could handle. One way or another, they were coming in, Gray figured, it would be best to gain some highground. He stood up.

“I’ll go deal with them. You wait here.”

“No, Gray, wait.” Amelia tried to stand up, but he pushed her back down.

“You’re not in any state to be moving around. Stay here. If anything happens, lock the door and call ACME. They don’t know you’ve turned against them yet.”

He closed the door behind him as he left, ignoring Amelia’s protests.    
  


Back in the loungeroom, Gray took a deep breath, and pressed the button to let whoever this was in. He was surprised that they hadn’t found another way in, like Ivy had. Speaking of, Gray looked to the window, which now had a giant, circular hole in it. Insurance was  _ definitely _ not going to cover that. Great.

But his attention quickly returned to the door, and to the footsteps, growing louder and louder, on the other side. He squared his shoulders, trying to put on an aura of confidence and collection, and not one of just having semi-kidnapped two women with a semi secret agent in lieu of Friday night plans.

But it didn’t matter, because the door slammed open.

“Wha-”

But before he could finish he was socked across the jaw.

“Fuck! What the-”

“Where are they!!”

“What?”

Gray staggered back, but his assailant was on him again, tackling him, throwing more punches than Gray could count. He managed to stay upright, trying to dodge the blows, but several made contact with his ribs, winding him completely. So this was backup, he thought, gasping for air, some maniac with an apparent death wish. Gray gathered the last of his strength and let his instincts take over, slamming his knee up in their general direction, and thanked every god when he felt it hit flesh. They doubled over, and he used the opportunity to shove them away. They stumbled back, barely keeping upright, and Gray, still trying to get his bearings and his breath, realised that they were at a stalemate. 

They stood there, in silence, both knowing that the other was too weak to defend themselves, neither bringing themselves to attack.

“Where’s Ivy?” The other guy (Gray finally had a minute to get a proper look at him without risking his physical being) demanded. Gray impulsively glanced towards her, asleep on the couch, and the guy followed his gaze. His eyes went wide.

“What the fuck have you done to her!?” He yelled, advancing on Gray, but Gray grabbed his wrists before he could do anything, forcing him back.

“Nothing, I’ve- calm the fuck down, mate! She’s asleep!”

“Bullshit! You work with ACME now!”

“No I don’t!”

“You’re friend does!”

“It’s complicated!”

“How is it complicated?!”

“It’s a long story!”

“Bullshit!”

“Well, I’d tell you if you’d stop trying to punch me for one  _ fucking _ second!”

“You’ve just kidnapped my sister!”

“For the last time, it’s  _ complicated _ !”

“He’s not lying to you, you know. You should listen to what he has to say.”

The two of them turned, shocked, to see Amelia, leaning against the door frame.

“You!” The guy exclaimed, resuming his struggling, “You’re the ACME agent!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! No she isn’t!”

“I suppose Player told you that?” Amelia asked, calmly.

The guy, much to Gray’s surprise, stopped struggling. He stared at Amelia. “How do you know about Player?”

“We’ve met.” Amelia said, simply. “Now, answer my question, please. Was he the one who told you that?”

He didn’t say anything, he just nodded.

“Let me guess, they’ve just told you that Gray’s betrayed Carmen and she’s in trouble.”

“Um… yes.”

“Well,  _ you _ can now tell  _ Player _ that they’ve been had. I’m don’t work with ACME anymore, and Gray never did. The phone call was faked. I have nothing against Carmen and no intention of hurting her. It was just a trick, they fell for it.”

The guy started to speak, but stopped.

“He heard.” He said. There was another pause. “He doesn’t believe you. He wants to know why you’d go to all this effort if you ‘have nothing against Carmen.’ I wanna know, too.”

“Because,” Gray cut in, letting go of the guy’s hands with more force than was strictly necessary, pushing him back. “My best friends are missing, and I think she might know where they are.”

To his credit, he didn’t make another move to attack Gray, but he didn’t look remotely like he believed them, either. Nor did he look like he had any idea what they were talking about. His brows knitted in confusion. “Player, are you hearing this?”

He paused, obviously listening to the reply. 

“We don’t know anything about your ‘friends’. Whatever’s happened to them, Carm’s got nothing to do with it.”

“Well then Carmen can tell me that herself.”

“Gray.” Amelia said, softly. She was still leaning against the door frame, and it was clear how she was relying on it for support. “Back off. I have some questions for our friend here.”

“You shouldn’t be standing up.” He told her, leading her over to a chair at the kitchen table. Her eyes were still unfocused, and her pupils were strangely dilated.

“What happened to her?” The other guy asked, looking at her as well.

“Your sister hit her in the head. Twice.”

“Ivy? Yeah, that sounds like her.” He said. “You need to take her to the hospital. She’s concussed. Look at her pupils.”

“I’m not going anywhere until we get some answers.” Amelia insisted. “Now, are you going to calm down enough to talk?”

He paused. Then, he looked at them. “I don’t think they’re lying, Player.” Another pause. “I’m gonna trust them. Sorry, man.” And then, to Gray’s surprise, he pulled an earpiece out of his ear, and put it on the table.

“Melodramatic of you.” Amelia commented. 

“Hey, I’m trusting you guys. I don’t believe you yet, but I’ll listen. Don’t make me look like a dumbass, here.”

“Trust me, you don’t need us to do-”

“Gray.”

“Sorry.”

“Well, if you don’t mind me asking,” Amelia began, “Who are you?” 

“Oh, right. My name’s Zack. That girl you two attacked? That’s my sister, Ivy. We’re Carmen’s friends.”

“I’d introduce myself, but I think you already know my name.” Amelia said, sounding tired. “I’ll leave Gray here to explain everything to you.”

She then rested her head on the table, cushioned by her arms. 

“You should really keep her awake. She can’t sleep like that.” The guy - Zack - told him. 

“‘m awake.” Came the muffled response. 

Zack looked at Gray, now. “So, why drug my sister and my best friend if not to turn them in?”

“Well, it all started a couple of months ago. Two close friends of mine…” Gray trailed off, involuntarily, “Two friends of mine went missing. Within hours of each other. I heard one of them being taken over the phone.”

“Oh, shit.”

“I was terrified, but something felt, well, wrong. About the whole thing. That’s where Amelia came in.”

Zack gestured to her. “Is she actually an ACME agent?”

“Not technically.” Came Amelia’s muffled reply. “I just got info for them. Which I don’t do, anymore.”

“She was asked to gather information on me, she went rogue, it’s a long story. Anyway,” Gray continued, “She started to wonder if they had been taken as some sort of punishment to me. Which made us realise, there was only one person who would have the means, or even any reason, to punish me for anything.”

Zack’s eyes went wide. “Carmen?”

“Carmen. Maybe I had done something to offend her, maybe she just wanted to tie up loose ends, I don’t know. All we knew was that the only way to find out was to find her ourselves and, well, as I’m sure you know, she’s not exactly easy to get a hold of.”

Gray decided not to mention the heist. Zack’s reactions told him that he knew less than they thought he did, and if he shared what Gray knew of Carmen’s moral alignments, combined with his quickness to jump to violence, it would hurt their cause less to point a gun at Carmen’s head than to tell Zack about the robbery.

“So, what did you do?”

“Exactly what you’ve just seen. Amelia used her ACME connections to make it look like she had captured me, Player picked up the call and tracked her phone to this apartment. Only, we never expected her to bring friends. The situation got a little, well, out of hand, to say the least.”

He gestured to Amelia, and then to the two women on the couches.

“How did you know that Amelia worked for ACME?”

“Because she told me.” 

“I decided to stop selling information to ACME  _ and _ Player.” Amelia said. “I just didn’t tell either of them.”

Zack’s eyes widened. “Wait, Player? What do you mean, Player?”

Gray looked at Amelia, and she looked back, just as nonplussed as he was. 

“Player? You’re hacker friend. He contacted me? On Carmen’s orders?” Amelia ventured, but Zack just shook his head, looking as confused as they were.

“No, Carmen never had him do that, not that she told me. Are you sure it’s the same Player?”

“How many other Players do you know?”

“But what did he want?”

“Information. On Gray. He wanted me to turn over any information I was going to give to ACME to him instead. I thought Carmen had asked him to do it.”

Zack stared at her. “She didn’t. She’d have no reason to. I don’t know why Player contacted you, but Carm never asked him to.”

“What do you mean, she’d have no reason to?” 

“I mean Carmen would never-”

A noise came from one of the couches, getting everyone’s attention.

“Mmm… what? mmph.... Ivy. Ivy!”

There was a loud  _ thump _ as Carmen tried to stand up, but fell back against the couch. “Ivy!” She cried again, struggling to get up again. 

“What’s wrong with her?!” Zack demanded, concerned.

“The drug’s still wearing off. She’ll be fine, just calm her down before she hurts herself.” Amelia replied, authoritative. Zack ran to Carmen and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Zack?”

“It’s ok, Carm, I’m here, you’re ok.”

“Gray, he… he drugged me, Zack. He betrayed me… he  _ betrayed _ me!” Carmen sounded hysterical, and Gray could see that her eyes were brimming with tears. 

“I, uh, kind of knew that already, Carm. We’re, um, still in his apartment. He’s at the table.”

Carmen looked around frantically, until they fell on Gray, with Amelia. 

If Zack hadn’t been there to hold her back, Gray was definite he would be without an eye by now. He struggled to hold her as she lunged at him, screaming insults at him from across the room. But as angry as she was, in her rage she just looked smaller, suddenly the Carmen he knew, the one who was so collected, so powerful, was fading away. Suddenly, Carmen was human to him. So as she screamed at him, no matter what she said, he didn’t feel a word of it. 

“Carmen, wait, please!” Zack pleaded with her, holding her back as she struggled against him. “He’s not going to hurt you!” 

“She’s still drugged, it’s messing with her.” Amelia said. “Sometimes people get hysterical after they’ve been hit with it. I was warned about that.”

As if on cue, Carmen burst into tears.

Zack looked exactly how Gray felt: completely unequipped to deal with this situation. He sat Carmen down on the couch, and looked desperately at the two of them for assistance.

“You know, of all the ways I imagined this whole thing playing out,  _ this _ was definitely not one of them.” Amelia told him. 

Ivy took that moment to shoot up, gasping for air. “Where am I!?” She looked around, terrified, and just as Gray realised that this situation could not possibly get  _ any _ worse, she saw Zack.

“Zack!” She practically fell to him, but he rose up to meet her halfway, gripping her tight, as she shakily pressed into him, still unbalanced. 

“It’s ok, Ives, it’s ok.”

Gray looked away.

“Where are we?” Ivy asked again, still shaking, but she seemed to be able to stand up on her own again.

“In Gray’s apartment. We never left.”

“It’s Graham, actually.”

Amelia nudged him “Not now!”

Ivy whipped around and saw them at the table. “Wait. They’re ACME agents!!!” She turned to Zack. “You’re just letting them sit there?!”

“For the last time, we’re not ACME agents!”

“You tried to kidnap me!”

“I  _ successfully _ kidnapped you!”

“ _ What! _ ” Ivy was delirious with both panic and anger.

“Well, technically! I only successfully kidnapped you,  _ technically _ !”

“Amelia, you are  _ not _ helping!”

“The hell do you mean,  _ technically _ !?”

“Nothing! She means nothing! We didn’t kidnap either of you!”

“Yeah, we only baited and drugged you!”

“Amelia!”

“For a good cause!”

“For the love of god…” Carmen finally said, her face in her hends and her voice heavy with tears, “can  _ somebody  _ please tell me what the  _ hell  _ is going  _ on _ ?”

Zack looked at Gray.

Gray looked at Amelia.

Amelia looked at Zack. 

Gray looked down.

“Well. The good news is: we’re not here to kidnap you! The bad news: we are here to- Ow!”

Amelia kicked him in the shin.

“Sorry about him, he’s a smartass when he’s nervous.”

Carmen nodded, and he thought he saw the faintest hint of a smile flicker on her face, but it faded just as quickly as it came. Her eyes were still red, and her face turned into a glare.

“So, if you’re not here to kidnap us, why  _ are  _ you ‘here’?”

Gray opened his mouth, but before he could respond, Carmen put a finger up, keeping him quiet.

“Player? Don’t worry. I’m fine. I’m still in his apartment. No, he hasn’t done anything to me, aside from the drugging.” She said the last part with a pointed stare in Gray’s direction.

She paused again. “Yes. He’s still saying that.” Another pause, and her glare turned on Zack. “He did  _ what? _ ”

Zack blanched.

“Ok. Good. We’ll wait for him. In the meantime, I want to hear what they have to say.”

Carmen looked at him. “Ok. I’m listening. But you’re on borrowed time.”

Amelia stood up, and Ivy, still on edge, bristled. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t hear you properly from the table.”

Ivy looked at Carmen for direction. Carmen nodded.

“Fine. But if you try anything…”

“I don’t think I could if I wanted to.” Amelia replied, staggering to her feet. She took one step towards them, then stumbled, nearly hitting the ground. 

“Amelia!” Gray grabbed her shoulders to steady her.

“She’s concussed.” Carmen said. “I’m surprised she can even hold a conversation. You need to get her to a hospital.”

“I’m well aware.”

Gray guided her to the couch, sitting down next to her, and there they finally were, with Carmen and her friends on one side, Gray and his on the other.

“So.” Carmen began, staring him down. “Care to explain what’s going on here?”

“Ok, so. First off, no one here’s associated with ACME. So let’s just get that-”

Carmen cut him off with another finger. Player was speaking, obviously.

“You’re lying. She works with ACME.”

“Oh fucking hell, it’s  _ complicated _ . Sh-” 

Carmen cut him off again, listening.

“Can you put him on speaker phone or something? Amelia finally snapped. “Because I’m getting really fucking sick of all these one sided conversations.”

Carmen glared at her, taken aback by her sudden audacity. 

“Oh… yeah… apparently she knows Player.” Zack piped up. Carmen looked at him, and he shrugged slightly in response. “She says that he’s spoken to her before.”

“ _ She _ can speak for herself, and yes, we have. If Player’s going to talk he can talk to all of us.”

“I need Player on my side in case you two betray us,  _ again _ .”

“Which he can still do on speakerphone. He’s a hacker, he can handle himself.”

“Player? Thoughts?”

A pause.

“Ok. I trust you.” Carmen pulled her phone out of her pocket, and unplugged her headphones. She pressed a button. “Player, you’re on speaker.”

“Hi, everyone.” The voice on the other end said, but Gray didn’t respond. He stared at the phone now resting on the coffee table.

“ _ That’s _ a child.” He said.

“I’m 14, actually.” The voice replied.

“Wow…” Amelia muttered “A top tier government agency, and they got breached by a 14 year old. Fuck me, they’re incompetent.”

“Didn’t you work with them for 4 years?”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t see how shit they are at their jobs, Gray.” Amelia then spoke to Player. “I expected somebody older, admittedly.”

“You don’t sound too old yourself.”

“I’m 18.”

“Young, for an ACME agent.”

“Pot, kettle! And I’m not an ACME agent!” Amelia said, exasperatedly. “It’s like I told Ivy before, I only gathered information for them,  _ occasionally _ . There was never anything official. I was too young for that kind of job. This assignment with Gray was supposed to get me my promotion, but, well…” She gestured vaguely. 

“How were you employed by them in the first place?” Carmen asked, looking at her with suspicion. 

“Like I said, it’s a long story.”

“We have time.”

Amelia sighed. “I was 14, at the time, and I really wanted to become a hacker.”

“A hacker?”

“Yeah, like in the movies! Or, at least that’s what I thought.”

There was a small laugh from the phone, but it wasn’t mocking.

“I, well, I shot too high. I barely even knew the basics, barely knew what I was doing, and… well. I don’t really know what happened, but I knew that I’d gotten myself into deep, and if it wasn’t for them, I don’t think I’d be here today. 

But then they came to me with a preposition. It wasn’t hacking, though…” Amelia trailed off, closing her eyes tight, and then opening them again, shaking her head as if to rid it of something. “Sorry. Head’s foggy. Anyway, they came to me... and they asked for information on someone who lived in my area. Told me that if… that if I was a good person, I’d give it to them. I didn’t feel like, I could disagree.. so I followed my target and gave them as much as I could. A week later he’d been arrested. Trafficking ring. I’d never felt prouder of myself. And so I waited for them to contact me again… and they did.” 

“But why haven’t you turned me in yet?” Carmen asked.

“Because she was never going to.” Gray cut in. Amelia nudged him in the ribs, not hard, but he still winced. Zack’s initial assault had left its mark.

“I never was an ACME agent, and I’m not going to be one anymore.” Amelia explained. “I’ve defected, so to speak. I never planned on taking Gray from the get go.”

Carmen’s eyebrows furrowed. “But, the phone call? Player said there was a phone call.”

“It was faked. I knew Player would be tracking my phone, so I made a call, but not to an ACME agent. My godmother thinks I’m auditioning as a voice actor, now, but it was means to an end.”

There was silence, and then;

“Well played.” From the phone. 

Amelia smiled. 

“Wait, hold up.” Zack interjected. “Why would you go to all that trouble if you weren’t even going to turn him in?”

“He was never the target. I was.” Carmen answered for him, staring at the two of them. “And you were in on it the whole time!”

“It was his idea, in fact.” Amelia said.

Gray gave her a look that he hoped communicated how much he would’ve liked for her to not have said that.

“It was my idea to create a threat.” He explained, trying to cover. “Something that you would come and solve. The whole kidnapping thing was Amelia’s idea. I went along with it.” Judging by the murder now in Carmen’s eyes, he didn’t do a very good job of it.

“Why?” Carmen’s voice was thunderous, “Why would you turn against me like that?”

Gray would’ve blanched under the weight of her stare, but the thought of his friends made him stand firm. He did not make this far just to back down because Carmen was pissed at him.

“Do the names Madison Wells and Tobias Mirais ring a bell to you?”

Carmen looked taken aback. “No. Not at all.”

“Well they should. Because they went missing three months ago, and I think you might have something to do with it.”

“Why would I have something to do with the disappearances of two strangers?”

“Because they were my friends, Carmen. They were my best friends.” 

Her face softened in sympathy.

“Oh. Oh, Graham, I’m sorry.”

“If you really were you’d tell me what you know.” His voice would’ve been calm, but it just came out completely devoid, like all the colour had been drained out of it. 

“Graham, I don’t know anything. I’v-”

“Yes you do. You have to.”

“No, I don’t-”

“All I want are answers. Give them to me and I’ll let you go.”

“I can’t give you what I-”

“All you have to do is talk, Carmen.”

“I’m telling you, I don’t know any-”

  
  


“Stop it. Just tell me where they are.”

“Please, let me-”

“Tell me where they are.”

“I don’t know, I-”

“ _ Tell me _ where they are.”

“Gray, please, just listen to me, I don’t  _ know _ -”

“Stop  _ fucking _ lying to me!!” 

The moments after his outburst were blurry. He vaguely remembered Carmen, sitting there, looking like she’d been slapped. He had a sense Ivy exclaiming something at him, enraged, Player trying to control the situation, even Zack moving, was it to punch him? Did he hold himself back? But what was most vivid to him was Amelia, looking both dazed and terrified. Her pupils: One was bigger than the other. He remembered that. 

“Gray?” She asked, softly, and Gray realised that his vision was blurry because his eyes were filled with tears. He blinked them away, his breathing shaky. 

“Sorry.” He said, addressing Carmen. “I just - Fuck. Sorry.”

She looked at him, more concerned than anything. “It’s ok. You’re going through a lot right now. Now, tell me why you think I know where your friends are.” 

Gray took another deep breath. “What other secret organisation am I involved with?”

Carmen looked at him, then looked at Amelia, then looked back at him, pointedly. 

“Has ACME been known for kidnapping people? To your knowledge?” Amelia asked.

“No. It hasn’t.”

“Which only leaves one organisation that could target me. Yours.”

“Target you?” Ivy asked. “What makes you think they were targeting  _ you _ ?”

“My two best friends, taken within hours of each other, one whilst she was in the middle of a phone call. With me.”

“But that doesn’t mean they were targeting you.” Ivy argued, “Did someone ransom them to you? Blackmail you? Contact you in  _ any _ way?”

“No, but…”

“So why do you think you’re the target?”

“Because we started being followed.”

“Followed?” Carmen asked, looking at Amelia, “By you?”

“No, it wasn’t me. And there wasn’t anyone else on my assignment, either.” Amelia met Carmen’s gaze.

“It definitely wasn’t her. It was some weird bird person.”

“Weird bird person?” Player asked. Zack and Ivy looked a combination of confused and suspicious, but Carmen’s eyes widened.

“Wait. Was he wearing all black? Had a plague mask on? Wing shaped gliders?” Her tone was sharp. Gray, taken aback, nodded.

“How did you-”

Carmen swore under her breath. “I should’ve seen it coming. Of course they’d have people tracking you.”

“They? Who’s ‘they’?” Amelia demanded.

Carmen bit her lip, and didn’t answer for a long while. When she did, she was picking her words carefully. “There’s a third organisation that might have it out for you.”

“Red…” Player said, warningly.

“It’s called VILE.” Carmen continued. “Villain’s International League of Evil. I’ve been fighting them for years. They were the ones behind what happened in New Zealand, Graham. That bird thing? He’s one of their agents. Little King Crow.”

“Little King Crow?” Amelia’s eyebrows went up. “Who the fuck calls themselves that?”

“He does. All VILE agents have codenames.” Carmen answered. “If he was the one following you-”

“Then this ‘VILE’ might’ve taken Matt and Toby?” Gray asked, hope blossoming inside of him, feather light and pale gold. 

“Yes. There’s a big possibility they did.” Carmen looked down. “They knew that we were close and they wanted to hurt you for it, so they took your friends away.”

“Um, Red? There’s something I have to tell you.”

“What is it, Player?”

“I picked up chatter that-” Player trailed off suddenly. “It’s, um, Shadowsan. He’s on his way right now. Won’t be long. Yeah.”

Carmen looked up. “Shit. We have to go.”

“Wait, why?”

“Who’s Shadowsan?”

“A friend of mine,” Carmen responded, standing up and grabbing the phone from the table. “Who’s a lot less willing to listen than I am.”

“Considering we had to drug you to have a conversation-”

“Trust me, he’s worse. If he thinks you’ve done something to me, which you have, he will not listen. Nor will he hesitate.” Carmen said, gravely. “We have to get out of here, for your sakes.”

“But we still have questions!” Amelia protested.

“They’ll have to wait. Go to a hospital, you need that concussion looked at.” Carmen grabbed Gray’s hands. “Graham, I promise you, I will do everything I can to find your friends. I’ll save them, I swear.”

Gray nodded. Then he had a sudden idea.

“Wait.” He grabbed the picture he had taken from Toby’s apartment and handed it to her. “Take this. You’ll need some idea of what they look like.”

Carmen looked like she was about to argue, but Ivy cleared her throat from the door.

“Ok.” She said. “Goodbye, Gray.”

“It’s um… it’s Graham.”

Carmen laughed, and with one last look back, she closed the door behind her. Leaving Gray with more questions than answers, and Amelia with a concussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update might be late again because this chapter royally screwed up my schedule, but I'll try to get back on track. Thanks for being patient with me!!


	19. Gray, A True Blue Recruit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gray dreams, Amelia recovers, and Carmen comes through. Kind of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: This was originally supposed to be a Carmen chapter (which surprised me more than anyone), but I realised midway through writing it that it just worked so much better plot-wise if we were back with our old friend Gray. That's where the chapter title comes from, it was originally going to be "The True Blue Recruits Caper"

Gray knew, deep down, that the sight of Carmen closing the door on him would be the last sight of her for a long time. He tried his best not to lament over the fact that, after everything they had done to get her to talk to them, he was left with nothing but her word. And he didn’t even know if she would keep that. It wasn’t like she’d even done anything to earn his mistrust, but there was always that  _ one part _ of him that couldn’t believe her, so trusting her became a paradox in itself, both easy and impossible at the same time.

He tried to push the thought away, but it mingled with his frustration like smoke to an old flame. So he did the next best thing, he placated it with the promise that he would sort it out later (a common occurrence, it seemed). Anyway, he told himself, he had more important things to deal with than his own personal issues. 

He left Amelia at the entrance of the emergency ward, as she had asked, (apparently, him taking in a concussed and bruised 18 year old girl with little explanation would, quote, “not be a good look”). She was still unbalanced, but relatively lucid, so Gray was comfortable that she would be alright. After making her promise to call him the moment she got out, he left her there. He felt a little bad about just ditching her, but she was right, it would raise questions they couldn’t answer. 

Anyway, it was time he assessed his own damage. 

It was with that thought that he was found himself in his bathroom, shirtless, at 2am in the morning, prodding his ribs with one hand, looking up symptoms of a broken jaw with the other.    
  


As was regular Friday night behaviour.

His jaw was smarting where Zack had hit it, and was already a violent myriad of red and violet. He ran his fingers over the bruise, then jammed them in as hard as he could, only stopping when the pain became too much. He didn’t know why, it didn’t bring him any solace, but the urge was satiated. He opened his mouth wide, stretching it, checking for any pain, but felt none. It was swollen and sore, yes, but it was otherwise fine. His ribs were a similar story, nothing was broken, but everything was aching.

He went into the kitchen to look for some sort of ice pack. He had a feeling he would need one. 

***

_ Every single part of him was burning. Each one of his muscles was spasming, locked in an excruciating, unbearable pain, a needle being jammed deep into each one of his nerves. Gray had become a live wire, every single movement could’ve snapped him, a band stretched to breaking point. He would’ve screamed, but he couldn’t open his mouth. His hands strained involuntarily against the bands but nothing he did mattered, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak. All he could do was convulse. He couldn’t even scream. _

_ There was squeaking and scurrying underfoot, and Gray didn’t even need to see the rats to know what they were, (how he knew, he didn’t know). Part of him wanted to look down, to see them but before he could there was an inhuman pressure on both sides of his head, one finger pressing deep into the bruise on his jaw, the pain was sharper than anything he’d felt before, and even though he didn’t, he couldn’t move, it would shatter him, the hands began to pull his head back.  _

_ He tried to tell whoever it was to stop, he couldn’t move any further he couldn’t move at all it was too much they were going to break him, she was going to break him, but the pain was too intense for him to speak. The hands kept pulling, until his head was leant back against the chair, his neck bending too far for him to comprehend. _

_ He stared up, every part of his body in agony, to see another face staring back down at him. Carmen giggled, and his mouth wrenched itself open to a piercing, agonising, terror filled _

Gray couldn’t breathe. His lungs were desperately straining for air, but every breath he managed to make came out like a violin screech, shrill and jarring, too high pitched to come out of any human mouth.

He was crying, again, tears mingling with the sweat dripping down his face, and his next breath came out a sudden, trembling, sob. He tried to roll over, and nearly fell off the couch, becoming very aware again of the bruising on his ribs. His chest was sore, and his jaw was aching. He sat up, wiping his eyes, and looking around for his phone. He needed to call in work, he knew he wasn’t gonna be leaving his apartment today.

***

By the time Gray was back at work the next day, the bruise had become a dull purple that stood out glaringly against his skin. He could feel the stares he was getting, and by the end of the matinee rumours were circulating around him like mosquitoes. It was interesting to think of how he must look to his coworkers, the guy who leaves for 3 years and comes back without a single memory of any of them, who then within a year of that loses his two best (and only) friends to unknown circumstances (not to mention the fact that he was apparently screwing one of them, with  _ another _ coworker on the side. He wasn’t sure how his and Amelia’s lie in the interview room got out, but it had spread like wildfire (seemingly the trend of the 2020 Summer.)), leaves for two months, then rolls back up with a busted jaw and no explanation. This just happened to be one of those rare occasions, he realised, in which the truth was going to be stranger than whatever the employee body of the Sydney Opera House had come up with. But he was used to that by now, he’d been the rare exotica of the rumour department ever since he got his memories wiped in the first place. Amnesiacs weren’t exactly commonplace. 

Amelia wasn’t there, either. She wasn’t seriously injured, but a concussion was still a concussion, the doctors just didn’t want her doing too much, so she was at home, being doted on by her grandma. Gray texted her the occasional update, but mainly left her to it. 

He was on his way out, a job well done (he liked the show he was lighting for, which was always an added bonus) when he was waylaid by a grumpy looking bartender with eyeliner that could cut him. Toby had pointed her out once or twice, but she mainly worked in the downstairs bar on the Harbour, so they’d never really interacted.    
  


“You’re Graham, right?”

“Yes?”

“Nini told me to tell you that your friend’s been waiting for you at the cafe.”

Gray’s heart lifted, but he quickly shoved it back into its place. He couldn’t keep going to pieces every time someone said the word ‘friend’ in relation to him. It was more emotional strain than he strictly needed.

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

“I’m Hayley. Nini’s girlfriend.” She raised her eyebrows, like this Nini should’ve been someone Gray knew personally.

“And Nini is?”

“Y’know, the waitress at your cafe?” 

“Oh, you mean Perce?”

  
“Yes!” Hayley said, like it should’ve been obvious. “She told me to tell you that your hot friend was waiting for you at the cafe last night. The one who stood you up and then didn’t?”

Gray felt a strange rush come over him, like he was both hot and cold at the same time. 

“Carmen?”

“How should I know?” Hayley snapped, exasperated. “I was just told to tell you that she’ll be there tonight, as well. She’s waiting for you.”

And without waiting for a reply, she left him there, buzzing.

***

Gray didn’t know what to expect when he turned the corner, to see the the little tables and the warm light of his cafe, each umbrella decked out with a string of paper fairy lights, a new addition, Gray noted, and they added to the place’s general aesthetic, little clouds with little smiley faces, printed on them. He suddenly felt like he had felt on that Friday months ago, looking around for that flash of red, thinking that she’d be there any minute. He’d been disappointed back then, the sight of her against the billboard twisting the knife further (they were even running Carmen again at the Opera House. It just all kept coming back, didn’t it?)    
  


But he had to be sure. He wasn’t going to let her vanish again.

And then he saw it again. That flash of red. At the end table. At  _ his _ table.

It took him everything not to break into a run. There she was, sitting at his table, scrolling through her phone as if Friday night never happened. 

“Sorry I’m late.” She jumped when he spoke.

“Graham! You came!”

“Perce’s girlfriend gave me a yell that you were waiting for me.”   
  


“Perce? The waitress?”

“Persephone.”   
  


As if on cue, Persephone glided in, holding two cups. “Good to see you finally made it, Graham!”

“Thank you for telling him.” Carmen smiled at her as Persephone set down her drink.

Perce patted Gray’s shoulder, smiling warmly. “Anything for our Graham! We hadn’t seen him in a while, I was starting to get worried!”

“Thanks, Perce.” He said, smiling a little awkwardly.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to talk.” And with one last smile and one last pat, Perce floated away to serve another table. 

“Perce?” Carmen asked, once she was gone. “I didn’t realise you were on nickname basis with the waitress.”

“It’s what all the regulars call her.” Gray responded. “It’s a surprisingly quiet cafe, considering.”

“Well, it’s a good thing that she remembered your ‘coffee order’.” Carmen said, arching an eyebrow, a faint quirk to her lips.

Shit. Leave it to Persephone to run her mouth. 

“Do you even  _ like _ coffee? Or do you just order it to impress girls on dates?”

Gray sipped his hot chocolate with extra sprinkles, two marshmallows and just a little bit of whipped cream on top guiltily, and didn’t respond.

“So, why are you here?” he asked, looking around for a change of subject. “You sus out VILE or whatever that quick?”

“No…” Carmen replied. “I figured it’d be best if we met at a neutral location, considering last time. I have a proposal for you.”

“Yeah?” What could Carmen have to say that she couldn’t have said on Friday? Maybe she had found something on Matt and Toby, he thought, and was going to ask for something in return. Gray bristled at the idea of her lording his friends over him. Sure, he had done it to her only 2 days ago, but that was under completely different circumstances. He was acting out of desperation. What could she need that would drive her to do something like that?

“I want you to join my team.”

Gray choked on his hot chocolate with extra sprinkles, two marshmallows, and just a little bit of whipped cream on top.

“What?” He spluttered, “Are you serious?”

“I am. I think you’d be a valuable member. You’ve got skills with electronics that I think we could really use.”

Gray stared at her, wide-eyed, still coughing.

“Carmen, I’m a tradie. I’m just a sparkie who just happened to spot you backstage at an opera one time. Anyone could have done the things I’ve done. Why do you think I could bring anything to the table?”

“How could I not after what happened on Friday night? You managed to even outsmart Player, and that’s saying something.”

“But that plan nearly failed! If I didn’t have a second needle in my pocket you would have beaten us to high hell!”

“Still, you had the forward thinking that you might need a backup plan!”

Gray looked her in the eye. “Really, Carmen. Why me?”

Carmen reached over the table and placed her hand on top of his. Her nails were red, as well.

“Because I think you want to find your friends more than anything. I’m giving you that opportunity, Graham.”

Gray was reeling. Part of him was jumping at the chance, another part was pulling it back down, dragging it back with its arms around its waist. “What would happen if I said yes?” 

“Well, you’d have to come live at my headquarters, in California. You’d travel with us on various missions, but aside from that, you’d have to stay there.”

“Ok, but what would these ‘missions’ entail?”

“A majority of them involve stopping VILE from their various criminal activities. We can stop VILE in its tracks, and find Madison and Tobias on the way.”

Gray nodded, understanding, “Anything else I should know?” 

“This has to stay strictly confidential, of course. Everything we do is top secret, not even your close family can know where you are or what you’re doing.”

That wouldn’t be an issue. He rarely talked to his parents anymore, and it wasn’t like he had many deep ties at work. The most important people to him at the moment were Matt and Toby, and, well.

They sure as hell weren’t going to be an issue. 

So why was he unsure? All he had wanted was to have his friends back, and here Carmen was, practically handing him the opportunity on a silver platter, and yet here he was, holding back? It wasn’t like he really had anything or anyone in Sydney that he particularly cared about, anything that would bind him to this place, not since Matt and Toby disappeared. 

But that wasn’t entirely true, was it?

Gray realised then what was making him so hesitant.

“It’s up to you, of course.” Carmen was reassuring him. “I won’t hold it against you if you say no, nor will it stop my search for your friends. But I really want you on my side.”

“I’ll do it.” He told her. “But on one condition.”

“What?” 

“Amelia comes too.”

“Amelia?” Carmen’s face fell. “Graham, I don’t know if I can trust her. She may say she’s on your side, but I know ACME agents, they can’t be trusted.”

“It’s a good thing she’s not and ACME agent, then.” 

“Regardless, I can’t have somebody whose loyalties are divided, even remotely. What if the going gets tough and she turns on you?”

“And what if you leave her here? She goes straight back to ACME. Same outcome, Carmen, except now you’ve got a girl coming at you with a vendetta and half od ACME on her side. And considering what happened on Friday, that’s probably not gonna work out too well for you.” 

“Hey!”

“Oh, so it’s fine when  _ I _ do it, but when  _ she _ does it it’s an issue!”

Carmen gave him a strange look. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Either she comes or I don’t.”

Carmen sighed, and for just a moment she looked almost wistful, like someone remembering an old friend. But then it flickered away, and she nodded.

“Fine, She can join. But if I find out she’s kept  _ any _ sort of connection to ACME, she’s gone.”

“Ok.” Gray smiled. “We’re in.”

Carmen drained the remainder of her coffee. “I’m in town for another two weeks. That should give you enough time to get everything together. Meet me here Friday after next. At 9.”

“We’ll be there.”

They were interrupted by the buzzing of Carmen’s phone. She checked it, and her face scrunched up in confusion.

“I should really get going, Zack’s gone off to try and find a...” she paused, trying to read the text, “something, something, snag? Something, something, won’t be back, something.”

“Tell him that he’ll have to wait until next weekend, Bunning’s only has sausage sizzles then.”

Carmen stared at him. Gray shrugged. “Best place you can get ‘em.”

“I’ll take your word for it. I better go get him before he does something dangerously stupid. Or stupidly dangerous. Or both.”

“Good luck with that. I’ll see you in a fortnight?”

“I’ll be there.” 

He stood up. 

“Oh, and Graham?” Carmen said, standing up as well, “Before you go, I have a condition of my own.”

“Yeah?

She looked him dead in the eye, her tone suddenly serious. “Never,  _ ever _ pull something like you pulled on Friday again.”

Gray had forgotten how terrifying she was when she was mad.

***

There was of course, the business of asking Amelia if she actually  _ wanted _ to join Carmen’s team (gang? organisation? For a group going toe to toe with the world’s best, Gray hadn’t seen a single person over 20), an event which occurred the exact minute he walked through his front door, and opened with a, “Holy fuck Amelia you are not going to believe this shit.”

But he was safe in his assumption that Amelia would accept it out of hand. Judging by the fact that it sounded like she was about to cry tears of pure joy, Gray assumed that she was happy with the new development (the earlier conversation in her bedroom came to mind). There was a part of him that worried that she’d accepted it a little  _ too _ out of hand, though.

The hardest part was resigning from work, though they weren’t all that surprised when he handed in his notice. It was probably him trying to make a new start for himself, to leave behind everything that had happened over the past year. Gray couldn’t tell them how wrong that assumption actually was. 

He kept it quiet, very quiet, so by the time people knew he was leaving he would’ve already been gone. This didn’t bother him, the only people he would care about knowing were the main reason he was leaving at all. 

It, as he stood out on the Harbour for the last time, surrounded by people, that nothing he did now would matter to any of them. To them, Gray was just the closing chapter of the epic saga, and once he disappeared, that was where it. That was where it ended. He would live forever as just another character their minds, and he would just cease to exist after the cutoff point, the final page. The rest of his life would forever be branded as speculation.

And he wasn’t even a protagonist. No, this story was about Matt and Toby, and it had ended the moment they had disappeared. Gray was nothing but the epilogue, the faint implication that there was a world outside those two, that people lived and breathed after they had gone, that the things they did mattered, that the people they were had an effect on the people around them. That was all he was. And now they wouldn’t even have that anymore. 

This is where the story ended. Gray would disappear, the last of them to go, and no one would ever realise that anything else would happen. Sydney would be left with the cautionary tale of Madison and Tobias, the curtains closing on a perfect denouement, the perfect tragedy. They would never hear the next part. They would only hear the story of the two who were lost, they would never hear about the one who would go to the ends of the earth to save them.

Gray was just the epilogue. He sat down, his legs dangling over the edge, watching the last remnants of the sun reflecting against the water, watching the boats on the water. He wondered what it would be like to own one of those boats, to take off onto the open waters, to the freedom to find his own answers, to find his friends. The twilight made his chest ache with the same longing that always came with permanence, the fact that he could never see this again. He wasn’t coming back without them. That much he knew.

His phone buzzed, snapping him out of his reverie. It was Amelia. He’d have to get going if he wanted to meet her on time. So he stood up, looked at the Opera House one more time, and left the Harbour behind him.

It was only when he was in the backseat of Carmen’s car, watching Sydney fly by, that he realised he’d finished the story where it had begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gray and Carmen: *Talk about joining Team Red and taking down top secret agencies to find two missing persons.*
> 
> Persephone and the rest of the cafe: I am Listening Away. I do not Hear It.
> 
> In more important news; that's the end of Act 2! This one took a lot longer to write than Act 1, but it was so much more fulfilling and I feel like I've really improved as a writer! As per usual, I will be taking a break from updating (for how long, I'm not sure, but no longer than 4 weeks), and the previous chapters will get some rewrites (Nothing drastic, just some final edits). Thank you all so much for your support, it has meant the world to me!


	20. Matt Should Know Better By Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt gets off on the wrong foot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back on her bullshit

One would think Matt would know better by now. But of course not. One year later, and she still hasn’t learnt how to back down from a fight.

Still.    
  


She hated that kiwi bitch.

Rosalind.  _ Rosalind _ . Only someone with a name like Rosalind could ride a moral high horse at a school for criminals. 

Matt knows she’s being unfair. Not that Rosalind’s undeserving of her hatred, no, but it’s not like she’s done anything to directly hurt Matt.

It’s just the fact Rosalind has the demeanour of a Christian girl who thought a chastity ring made her the one herald of goodness left.

Like Margot did. 

It’s the fact that Rosalind reminds her of Margot that makes Matt hate her as much as she does.

But she tries not to think about that. 

Anyway, the moment the arrogant prick opened her mouth it was a match made in hell. Well, she hadn’t opened her mouth, exactly. But the sentiment was still there.

It was their first day of classes, at dinner. Toby had cracked a joke, a stupid one, if Matt’s entirely honest with herself, but she laughed anyway, because it’s Toby, what was she gonna do? But Rosalind didn’t. She just stared Toby up and down, eyebrow raised, lip curling. She didn’t say anything, but it was enough. Toby trailed off, and looked down at his plate, embarrassed. Matt had wanted to drive her spoon into Rosalind’s stupid ginger skull.

She probably would’ve done, had Benedita not stepped in. 

But Matt never has the time to truly express her hatred for Rosalind. Not in the way she’d like to, anyway. With everything VILE was making them do, Matt never has the time for anything. Coach Brunt was teaching them every fighting style known to man, as well as any other physical skill Matt could count. Dr. Bellum would often use them as test subjects for her newest inventions. They gained valuable skills from it, sure, but they also left vaguely traumatised. Countess Cleo was in charge of their ‘decorum,’ as she called it, making sure they were able to steal millions worth of valuables with the best posture possible. Not that Matt needed any more training in posture. The newest faculty member, Roundabout, was teaching them politics. Well, how to manage the internal politics of a situation to one’s own gain. And Professor Maelstrom? He was teaching them all the tricks of infiltration. Which is what they were doing now.

“Found you.” 

“Fuck!”

Rosalind gave her that stupid, smug smile she always gave when she’d won something. Especially off of Matt. “You know the rules. Back to Professor Maelstrom, Madison.”

“You didn’t need to remind me, Rosalind, I knew that already.” Matt pushed past her, tossing the ribbon on her wrist in her direction. She should’ve probably lost more gracefully, but she didn’t care. Matt had been trained in grace. Matt had grace in fucking spades. 

Could Rosalind say the same?

Matt began to make her way back to the front of the training room. It was a series of complicated hallways and chambers, each one decorated with a different theme, providing for a variety for different hiding spaces. The idea of it was to emulate the types of places they would be targeting, as agents. She occasionally ran into her other classmates as she wound her way through. But she just showed them her now ribbon-free wrist, and they let her go. After about 5 minutes of walking, she was finally out, into the main foyer of the gymnasium sized room. 

Matt’s team was supposed to find the target, somewhere in those hallways. The other team was supposed to make sure they didn’t. Judging by the fact that three of the four team members were already in the ‘out-zone,’ they were doing a spectacular job.

“I’d expect you to do better, Madison, if you want to consider yourself somewhat in Tobias’ league.” Professor Maelstrom admonished, when he saw her. 

“Yeah, yeah.” She sighed, plopping down next to Benedita, who gave her a kind smile. A book was open on her lap.

“No luck?” She asked her.

“Rosalind.” Matt huffed. “And I was  _ so close _ . It was in the next room, I swear.”

“They haven’t caught Toby. We still have a chance.”

“Yeah. But still. Rosalind was so smug about it, too! God, she’s an asshole.”

Benedita’s face fell. “You shouldn’t say things like that! We’re like family, remember?”

Michiko piped up from Benedita’s other side. “Families fight sometimes.”

“Yes, but they shouldn’t hate each other!”

“Madison does not hate Rosalind.”

Matt did hate Rosalind. But she wasn’t going to say that. Benedita hated conflict. Matt didn’t want to upset her by talking about it further. 

Instead, she took another look at Michiko’s tattoos. From a distance they were a mess of bright colours, all down her arm. It must have cost a fortune. Matt looked closer. Objects became clearer, tiny animals and flowers, the occasional object, too, all in bright and pastel colours. A couple at the top of her bicep caught her attention.   
  


“Hey, those are koalas!”

The other two stared at her. 

“On your arm. You have koalas on your arm!”

Michiko looked down. “Oh, yes! I do!”   
  


“It’s a cute tattoo! Where did you get it?”

“In Incheon. I was not sure what I wanted, so I got everything.” Michiko smiled down at the tattoo. She was nearly as tall as Toby, but where Toby was lanky, Michiko was straight muscle. She looked like she could bench press Matt with ease, and Matt respected that in a woman (she’s done more than respect that, in her time, but still). 

“I like the little frogs.” Benedita commented. “So cute!”

Michiko smiled.

“Oh, by the way.” Matt said. “You don’t have to call me Madison. You can call me Matt.”

“Ok!”

“Do you not like the name Madison?” Benedita asked her. 

“Oh, no, I like the name just fine.” Matt reassured, “One of my friends started calling me Matt, and it just kind of stuck.”

“I think something is happening over there.” The three diverted their attention back to the hallways. Matt was glad for the distraction. They weren’t supposed to talk about their old lives, so her vagueness was accepted. No further questions were ever asked. Nor were they ever answered. But talking about her nickname made her think about Gray. And she didn’t want to think about Gray.

She’d think she’d know better by now. But it’s been four months and she still can’t get him out of her head.

She was pulled from her thoughts by Toby emerging from the door, the briefcase they were supposed to grab in hand. They all cheered.

“Nice one, Toby!”

“Excellent work, Tobias.” Professor Maelstrom said, as Toby handed him the briefcase. “I’ll call the others back.”

Toby sat down next to her. 

“Where was it?”

He grinned at her, just a little too knowingly. “It was in the room next over from where you got nabbed.”

The look on her face must have said it all, because he burst out laughing.

“I fucking knew it! Stupid goddamn Rosalind.” 

“Yeah, was a feat and a half getting it out from under her nose.” Toby looked up. “Ah. Speak of the devil.” 

Matt looked up as well. Rosalind was walking out, talking to Kolya. Her eyes fell over the pair, and Matt gave her a very big, very fake, smile.

“Better luck next time, Rosalind!”

Rosalind didn’t dignify her with a response.

***

Professor Maelstrom’s interest in Toby annoyed Matt. Not much, but it did. The praise came from a fair place, Toby  _ was _ the stealthiest in their class, but Matt didn’t pull off three round trips of stolen goods through the halls of the Opera House for nothing! 

Admittedly, there was a blackout. But the point still stands. She’d still managed to escape afterwards.

Gray had been at her side then. For all her powers of perception, she never imagined that she’d never see him again. 

She pushes the thought from her mind. Or tries too. But the thought pushes back. And now she can’t get Gray out of her head. Because Matt had never been good at letting go. 

And now she’s at lunch in the cafeteria and in a  _ very _ bad mood.

Which is great. Because Rosalind’s at the other end of the table. 

Well, that’s not exactly the issue. It’s the fact that Rosalind won’t shut up.

“You’ve just got to be smart enough to know where someone’ll go next.” She was telling the table. “ _ I _ was able to figure out your pattern of movement, and figure where you were going to go next. That’s how I caught Madison. And she didn’t even see me coming.”

Matt doesn’t know why this is the hill she’s going to die on. Was it that she was already in a bad mood? Was Rosalind just there? Was it Gray? 

It was Gray, but Matt likes to kid herself. 

“It’s Matt.” She snaps, too loudly. The table goes quiet. Matt can feel the tension, and by the looks on everyone else's faces, they can too. Rosalind’s gone quiet, but Matt’s not in any mood to back down.

“Just in case you want to continue talking about me like I’m not here.”

Rosalind quirks an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t _talking_ _about_ _you_. Unlike some people, I don’t talk about others like that.”

“Unlike some people?” Matt asks. “Tell me, Rosalind, how do you manage to ride that moral high horse so well with that stick so  _ far _ up your asshole? It’s amazing!”

Rosalind’s face contorts in anger, but that’s exactly what Matt wants. She wants Rosalind to lose it, because when Rosalind loses it she’ll say something she’ll regret. She wants to destroy the facade Rosalind’s built for herself. The table is dead silent. 

“I’m sorry,  _ Matt _ , have I done something to offend you?” Her anger makes her accent stronger. Matt’s angry, and she needs to feed off Rosalind’s in return. But she needs the table on her side, so she needs to play this next part carefully. 

“Nothing, if you don’t count the fact that you are both arrogant and judgemental, and constantly act like you’re better than everyone else.”

“I do  _ not _ act like I’m better than anyone else! It’s not my problem you feel inferior.” Rosalind snaps. She’s taken the bait. The first, true insult has been thrown, and now Matt’s got plausible deniability. It fills her with satisfaction as much as it fills her with rage. 

“Oh! So  _ I’m  _ the one with the complex! Really, Rosalind?” Matt laughs, sharp and mocking. Rosalind gets even angrier. She’s not used to this, it’s obvious, and Matt’s been hardened by combat. She’s got this in the bag. 

“Then don’t blame me for the fact that you’re incapable!” 

“Incapable?! You can’t even tell the difference between two vases and  _ I’m _ incapable?” It’s a low blow but Matt doesn’t care. She knows when she needs to go for the knees.

“You’re just a jealous, judgemental, pathetic bitch who can’t handle the fact that other people are better than her!”

“Maybe so. But at least I don’t need to grovel at my teachers’ feet to be seen as talented. Tell me, how many steps are you from sucking their dicks?”

She can practically feel the sensation of an insult hitting hard. It fills her with the same sort of guilt it always does. She wonders, afterwards, why she can never stop herself, why she can never hold her tongue. Afterwards, she’s disgusted with herself. She always is.

And she can remember with near perfect clarity the last time she’s felt like this. Back in Toby’s car. Why did she never know better?

Rosalind’s livid. When she speaks again, she’s livid. 

“There’s a reason you only have one friend here,  _ Matt _ . And I don’t even know why he bothers with you.”

It feels like she’d been stabbed in the stomach. Matt was supposed to be better than that, but Rosalind’s words hurt her in a way she hasn’t been hurt in a long time.

‘There has been an… accusation made, Ms. Wells, in reference to the incident at the theatre several weeks ago.’ Her mind supplies, as if trying to rub salt on the wound, and before she knows it she’s running out of the cafeteria, before the walls feel like they’re closing in, before the world feels so big and she feels tiny. Like she’s a child running away from her own destruction.

And she is. She is.

She smacks into someone in the hallway.

“Matt?” Toby’s voice rings out, but she doesn’t turn around. 

***

Toby finds her not 10 minutes later. He doesn’t say anything. He never did when he found her like this. He just puts his arms around her shoulders and lets her cry it out. 

“Hey, Toby?” She asks, when she feels like she can speak again. 

“Mm?”

“Why do I destroy everything I touch?”

She feels his eyes on her, hears the rustle as he turns his head, but she keeps staring straight ahead.

“This isn’t about what happened in the cafeteria.”

Toby’s never been as perceptive as Matt has. Observant, yes, but she’s always been the one who could read people.

And yet she never saw Margot coming until it was too late. Matt doesn’t think about that.

But maybe Toby was more intuitive than she thought. After all, he’d been the one who’d seen Gray’s inevitable destruction, even if he was powerless to stop it. And he’d been the first one to see Carmen. 

Matt realises there’s a connection, there.

“This is about Gray, isn’t it.” Toby doesn’t even ask it.

What could she say? What could she say that would articulate everything she felt? How could she tell him that she had single handedly destroyed her entire future with her own spite? How could she tell him that she should’ve known better but she still went and destroyed one of the closest friends she’d had in years, because, surprise, she’d destroyed every other friendship she’d had before? How could she explain why it hurt so much this time? Because Matt can't even answer that herself.

“He called me.” It’s what comes out instead. Maybe for a good reason. “After we fought. He wanted to apologise. I  _ knew _ he wanted to apologise. But I didn’t pick up. I didn’t fucking pick up, and now we’re gone and I’m never gonna see him again.”

“You don’t know that.” Toby said. “I didn’t think I was gonna see him again when he left, and three years later he’s on the steps of the Opera House.”

“What part of ‘no outside lives’ don’t you get? Anyway, what would happen if he saw us as we are? As VILE agents? What would he think?”

Toby doesn’t respond.

“If I had just…” She’s already said more than she’s said in months. “If I had picked up the phone… I could’ve apologised. I would’ve apologised. I wish I could apologise.”

In every single fight she’s fought, Matt has never once thought that. But the one time that she does is the time that she can’t. 

“But I couldn’t swallow my pride and pick up the  _ fucking _ phone.” The tears are sliding down her cheeks again. “Why do I keep doing this to myself? Why can’t I ever stop?”

She knows Toby can’t answer her fully, not in the way she would want. She’d never told him about what happened in Melbourne, about why she doesn’t dance anymore, about how soft Margot’s lips felt or the way Jacob smiled under the theatre lights. About how she brought the roof down over her own head. 

“I don’t know.” Toby says, eventually. “But Gray couldn’t hate you. The same way I couldn’t hate you.”

Somehow, he knew what she meant. What she’d left unsaid. He  _ was _ more perceptive than she’d thought.

“How do you know that? For all we know, he could be sitting in a jail cell, cursing my very name.”

The reminder that Gray could easily be locked up by now stung them both.    
  


“We’ll never know what happens to him, will we?” She says. The tears have stopped now, and she feels emotionally drained. Completely empty. She has nothing left to give.

She looked at Toby, and by the look on his face she knew he agreed. He’d never admit it, it pained him too much to. But he agreed.

“I miss him.” Was all he said.

Matt hugged him. 

She wasn’t sure who needed it more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I made a lot of edits to the earlier chapters, but no changes have been made to the actual plot, just a couple of details here and there. 
> 
> The biggest changes that I made (that I can remember) are in Chapter 1 and Chapter 4. I changed the beginning of Chapter 1 and changed the later dialogue of Chapter 4. 
> 
> I'm still editing the chapters as I update, though, and I'll mention it if any significant changes are made. 
> 
> Thanks so much for your support!


	21. Toby, and the Discoveries Made When Sneaking Around At Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toby goes out for a midnight stroll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More VILE adventures! Cause that's exactly what we all wanted.

“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!!!”

Toby was tying his shoelace when Kolya’s voice rang out. It was then followed by an angry and sleep ridden groan. Sunlight had just begun to pour into his room, and it wouldn’t be long before they were all due for breakfast. It was a;; early rises at VILE Academy, which was better for some than others. It was a good thing Toby was adapted to running on little sleep.

“I regret teaching you that already.” He called back, pulling one knot tight and getting started on the other.

There was another groan. “ _ You _ taught him that?!” Matthias tired voice rings out. “Why would you teach him that? Now he’s going to be waking us up every day for the rest of our lives.”

“That’s the point!” Kolya said, chipper as ever. Toby finished with his shoes, stepped out onto the landing, leaning over the railing. Kolya, already in uniform, was at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Morning, Kolya.” 

Kolya looked up, grinning at him. “Morning, Toby!”

Toby made his way downstairs as Matthias’, grumpy, tousled, head popped out from his room. “I hate you both.”

Toby was about to respond, when the door opened to his right, surprising him. 

“Morning!” He smiled.

“Good morning.” Chae-Min offered him a small smile of his own, meeting Toby’s eyes briefly. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah. You?”

“No, I was drawing up all night.”

“Again? Dude, you’ve gotta get some sleep.”

“I forgot!”

“To sleep?”

“Yes.”

Toby laughed. “Well, we’d better get down there before Kolya nabs both our asses.”

Chae-Min’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“Let’s go down to breakfast.” Toby corrected.

“Oh! Right, yes.”

***

Matt and Rosalind still weren’t speaking to each other, but they’d at least made the effort to not speak to each other in a way that permitted the others to maintain some semblance of normal conversation. Which was a serious improvement off of the past week. At this rate, Toby thought, a little bit optimistically, they might even begin greeting each other soon.

“What do we have first up?” He asked her, taking another bite of his toast.

“We’re with Dr. Bellum first, then Maelstrom again. But we’ve got the entire afternoon in the gymnasium with Coach Brunt.” Matt replied.

The entire afternoon in the gymnasium with Coach Brunt. How could he have forgotten? It was going to be hand to hand combat again today, which meant sparring, which meant sparring against Matt, which meant a whole world of pain. But Matt didn’t see it that way, so he said nothing, just nodded, and downed his coffee, hoping that hid the expression on his face.

*** 

Over the next two months classes with Coach Brunt had upgraded to a near daily dread, for Toby at least. But not for Matt, no, they were some of her favourite classes. It’d be easy to say that she was the best fighter in their class, and Toby’s constant bruising could easily attest to it, but it was a lot more complicated than that. Each person had their own style, and it was impossible to judge one in comparison to the other. Matt was all agility, all grace, a master of the counterattack, whereas Michiko was sturdy, difficult to unseat and difficult to distract. Benedita, for someone who looked like she had sticks for bones and no muscles between, had a surprisingly strong kick, and a better sense of balance, and Matthias fought more like a gymnast on a beam than anything, even if Coach Brunt thought it was too showy. 

Everyone had their own style, but Toby’s happened to be a new discovery, yes, the elusive Fall on the Floor and Feel Sad About It For A While Technique, something exclusive to him. It was impossible to say who was the best fighter in their class, but the worst? That was easy.

That mantle fell to Toby. 

Oh well, at least he was one of the best pickpockets of the class. That thought always brought him relief, even if he never mentioned it. It was what kept him going even when his ribs felt like they’d been ground to dust. Nobody cared that the thief couldn’t last a minute in a fight. That kept him sane. 

And he owed it all to Gray. God, that list must be a mile long, by now. 

***

Whatever they did, they were not supposed to get caught. 

That, Toby imagined, would have been obvious, but it was driven into every single task they were given. Go do this, and do not get caught, go grab this, and do not get caught, go sneak through this and  _ do not get caught _ . Do not get caught. The message was incredibly clear. 

So it left Toby wondering exactly what would happen if they  _ did _ get caught. He’d asked his teachers, in moments when he could, but their answers were all the same: just don’t do it. Their confidence in him was astounding, but a straight answer would be a nice touch.

None of his classmates held Toby’s apprehension, however, whilst they were all unsure of themselves and their abilities, insecurities about being caught never really came into the equation, or if it did, they never talked about it. Then again, they always had to be careful about sharing too much about themselves, it might stray into the forbidden territory that their lives had now become. 

Of course, the rule was very easily broken, or at least bent, but it hung over everything interaction they had, and icebreakers were kind of difficult when anything that happened to them before the start of the year was banned. Still, Toby tried his best. Anyway, he liked the guys he was staying with, even if it did feel like there was one brain cell between the four of them. 

And most of the time it was Toby’s.

You know it’s a lost cause when Toby’s in charge of the brain cell. 

It had been a long day, and Toby was exhausted, bruised, and glad that it was over, because every part of him was aching and if he didn’t know any better he’d assume that something was broken. But nothing was broken, he had checked multiple times, to make sure, but no, Toby just had a low pain threshold, and Matt had a roundhouse kick that could kill. He was stretched out on one of the couches in the common room of the boys’ dorm, when Matthias came hurrying downstairs.

“Guys, I need your help.”

He and Kolya looked up. “What’s up?”

“It’s Chae-Min, he’s freaking out. I don’t know what’s going on.”

Toby stood up, brushing aside the complaints from his muscles, “What do you mean, ‘freaking out’?”

“Like, he’s curled up in a ball in his room, crying, freaking out. I don’t know what to do.”

It all rang just a little bit too familiar. “Do you know why?”

“No.”

“Have you tried talking to him?”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“I’ll go.” Toby walked past Matthias, climbing the stairs, “Though, he might just want to be alone right now.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Kolya asked. Matthias looked at him, asking the same question.

“Let’s just give him some space. I’ll talk to him if he wants.”

The pair nodded.

Chae-Min’s room is on the second to last floor, just before Toby’s own. The door was ajar, but Toby knocked anyway, making it swing gently. There was no reply. 

“Chae-Min? Are you ok?”

The door opened slightly, enough for him to see Chae-Min, his chin on his knees. He was crying, sobs bordering on hyperventilation, and Toby gently opened the door further.

“Can I come in?”

Chae-Min looked up at him, and nodded. Toby took a spot next to him on the bed. Close, but not too close. He tried to figure out his next move, because this was so much easier with Bertie, because she was his sister, and there’s only so far he can screw up with her. This was something entirely different. Chae-Min kept mumbling something, something that Toby couldn’t understand, but he tries anyway.

“ _ Can you talk right now? _ ” His Korean wasn’t the best by a long shot, but he hoped the message got across. Chae-Min shakes his head.

“ _ Do you want me to stay? _ ”

A nod. So Toby did. He wasn’t sure whether he should touch him or not, so he chose not to, and they sat there, in almost silence, until Chae-Min spoke again, his breathing controlled. 

“I’m sorry. I did not mean to do that.”

“Do what?”

“That… losing control like that. 

“It’s ok! It happens sometimes. Do you want... to talk about it?”   
  


“I don’t know, just…” Chae-Min paused. “It feels like everything is just… too…  _ everything _ . All the time, it happened… back home.” He got quiet, knowing he was saying something he shouldn’t be.

Toby thought carefully about his response, but they weren’t at a school for thieves for being rule followers. “I have a younger sister. She’s 12. She would often… do what you did. When things were too noisy, or there were too many people. She would come home from school and curl up in her room. She was just, more sensitive to things.”

Chae-Min didn’t respond for a moment, but when he did, his voice was soft. “I really wanted, back home, to stop doing it. To be normal, like all my friends. But I never could.”

“Are you calling my sister weird?”

Chae-Min’s eyes went wide. “No! No! I didn’t mean it to be mean!”

“I was kidding. I know what you meant. It was probably… a bad time for a joke, anyway.” Toby looked down. “But yeah, that sort of thing’s completely normal. It happens to a lot of people.”

He didn’t actually know for sure. But Chae-Min didn’t have to know that.

“Hey, why don’t we do something tonight?” He said, searching around for a change of subject. “I don’t know, sneak out or something? With the guys? I think Kolya might have some ideas.”

Chae-Min looked at him. “But, they said we had to stay in our dorms at night?”

“Yeah, and we just learnt how to hack security systems. We didn’t get here for being goody two-shoes.”

“What are goody two-shoes?”

“I’ll explain later. Come on. I’ve got an idea.”

***   
  


“Remind me again why I let you guys drag me out here?”

“Shh!”

Toby took a glance around the corner, using only the moonlight through the windows to guide them, they were lucky it was such a clear night. They’d be screwed if a janitor came around, but the fact that they didn’t need torchlight gave them a definite advantage. Toby counted to 20, listening for any sound, and upon hearing none, waved them all through.

“Again, why am I here?” Matthias asked, in a whisper, as they snuck down the hall. 

“Because you know out of all of the teachers, Dr. Bellum’s the most likely to have booze hidden somewhere in her labs.”

“Yeah. I know. But I can’t get drunk, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah, one in a billion genetic mutation, we know.”

“Anyway, just because you can’t get drunk doesn’t mean we shouldn’t.” Kolya protested. “I want to get ‘fucking turned’!”

“Anyway, who knows what sort of other weird shit Bellum’s got hanging around? Don’t you wanna take a look?”

“That doesn’t mean I want to get sliced in half by the maximum security lasers she’s probably got in there!”

“We’ll figure that part out when we get there. Let’s just  _ get there _ , first.”

The four of them wound their way through the hallways, past disused storerooms and large windows, trying to keep their noise to a minimum. The hallways were fairly deserted, but the janitors on patrol were thorough and vigilant, and there were several harrowingly near misses. Toby was used to wandering around in the dark, but it was clear that some of the others hadn’t been sought out by VILE for the same reasons. Kolya tripped on his own feet, just in the road of a surprisingly loud pot plant, and the 3 minutes following were some of the longest of Toby’s life. But the torchlight passed them over, and finally, finally, the doors to Dr. Bellums’ labs came into view.

“What do we do now?” Chae-Min asked. “We need a code to open the door.” He gestured to the keypad on the right side.

“I don’t know… if I’d seen her put in the code before I’d be able to remember it, but she’s always opened it from the inside.”

“Great, just great!” Matthias whispered, “We go through all that to come here, and you can’t even open the doors. Excellent. I’m so glad I woke up at midnight to come down-”

“Oh, get out of the way!” Kolya pushed them aside, taking a look at the keypad. He squinted at it, occasionally lifting his finger, as if to touch it.

“Give me a light.” Kolya said.

“Chae-Min, do you still have that torch you made?” 

Chae-Min rummaged around his coat pocket, pulling out a sleek black object. He fiddled with it, and one end lit up, he handed it to Toby, who shone it on Kolya and the keypad.    
  
“Move it to the right. More than that. Good.”

Toby held it up, and Kolya gave the keypad an even closer look, his eyebrows furrowing. Then slowly, as if unsure of his own actions, he cautiously pressed one button. 

Then another.

  
  
  


And another.

  
  
  
  


And one more.

  
They all stared at him, breaths bated, as Kolya made a move as if to cross himself, 

  
  
  


and pressed the final button.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The doors slid open.

“Nice one, Kolya!”

“Huh.” Matthias said, as they walked into the main lab, where they took most of their lessons. “I did not expect that to actually work. I stand corrected.”

“Oil.” Kolya said.

“What?”

“When people touch things, the oil from their hands gets on the buttons. I could see the oil.”

“And you could figure out the order by seeing which ones had the most oil.”

“Exactly.”

“But that doesn’t make sense.” Matthias said. “Dr. Bellum always wears gloves, there wouldn’t be any oil on the buttons.”

“I know. That’s what was weird But there was oil there-”

“Guys!” Chae-Min interrupted them, pointing to one of the doors, one of the doors that they were absolutely banned from going through. 

It was ajar.

“No. She can  _ not  _ still be here. Not now.” Matthias said, his face falling.

“No, look, the lights are off.” Toby pointed out. “If somebody’s in there, it’s not her.”

Just then, there was a crash from behind the door. The four of them looked at each other.

“Over, here. Quick!” Toby whispered to them, and they all took to the wall beside the door, pressed up against it. Toby, closest to the door, took a look around into the lab. It was shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from the other end. From a torch, from a hand.

From a person. Toby tried to get a look at them, but it was too dark. But then the hand holding the torch moved back slightly, just enough to give a hint of light to the figure itself. 

Toby caught a glint of red. 

No way.

“It’s Rosalind!” He whispered.

“Bullshit.” Matthias whispered back. “Why would she be sneaking into Dr. Bellum’s lab?”

“Same reason we are, perhaps.”

“Rosalind? I don’t think so.” Chae-Min replied.

Toby took another look, only to see Rosalind rummaging around one of the cupboards. She seemed to be searching for something, but what, exactly, Toby didn’t know.

“What is she doing?” He murmured, more to himself than anything. Rosalind seemed to be done with whatever it was she’d been doing, she took a step back, unthinkingly swinging the cupboard door shut.

Only for it to slam with a bang that echoed across the room. Rosalind gasped, panicked, and whipped around to look directly at the door, her hand over her mouth.

And Toby swore for a second that their eyes met.

He pushed himself back against the wall, every part of him suddenly aware of the jump in his heartbeat, the shortness of his breath. Not speaking, he gestured for the other guys to move, and they crept back to the doors, Kolya hit the code again, and it was only when they were safely back in the common room that any of them spoke.

“Did she see you?” Matthias asked. “You made us leave suddenly.”

“I thought she did. It was just a glance though. I panicked. She probably didn’t see anything.”

“But what would she have done if she did see you? She can’t tell anyone we were out, she would also have to admit she was out as well.”

“Still, it’s Rosalind. It’s not that I have anything against her, but if anyone would snitch on us, it would be her.”

“What was she even doing there?” Kolya asked. “How did she even get in?”

“We were able to.” Chae-Min pointed out. 

“We’ve gotta remember that we’re all here for a reason. However she may act, she must be good at what she does. Whatever that is.” Toby said.

“Whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t breaking in.” Matthias said. “She didn’t even close the door behind her, that’s  _ basic _ .”

“But why was she there?”

“The same reason we were, probably.”

“Rosalind? There’s no way.” 

“VILE picked her for a reason. She can’t be as high strung as she acts.”

“Still, I cannot see her sneaking out in the middle of the night to look for some alcohol.” Chae-Min said.

“I don’t think she was looking for alcohol.” Toby said. “But she was looking for something else.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because before we left I saw her put something in her pocket. I dunno what it was, but it definitely wasn’t a bottle.”

“Why would she take something?”

“Does it matter? What Rosalind does in her spare time isn’t really any of our business.” Matthias yawned. “I just wanna go back to sleep.”

“Actually, I want to know what she took.” Kolya said. 

“Me too, but Matthias is right. What Rosalind did is none of our business.” Chae-Min said.

The three of them looked at Toby, waiting for a response, and Toby didn’t know what to say. What was the worst thing Rosalind could have done? It wasn’t like they were innocent, they’d snuck in the same way she had, for probably the same reason. But Rosalind had taken something, what was in Dr. Bellum’s lab that was worth her sneaking in at night to take? And even then, she’d never even been inside that lab before, why would she know to need something from there? Why would she take it at all?

The better part of Toby told him that Matthias and Chae-Min were right, where Rosalind broke into was her business, not theirs. But Toby hadn’t had the best track record for listening to the better part of himself, not where his friends were involved. 

And he’s always been one for morbid curiosity, anyway.

“Just find out what she took, and why. And leave it at that.”

“Ugh, great.” Matthias groaned, “Prying into our friends’ private lives. Exactly what we’re here for.” 

“You don’t have to get involved if you don’t want to.” Toby told him. “You can go back to bed. Actually, I think we all should.”

“What! We were about to plan! And scheme! I wanted to scheme!”

“Later, Kolya. Right now we need to sleep.”

But Toby did have a plan. Which was at the moment a very stupid, very unlikely, very dumb plan that relied on Toby convincing someone to do something that they’d probably rather die before doing.

That last part sounded a bit like an over exaggeration. But knowing Matt, it absolutely wasn’t.


	22. Matt Should Really Be Better Than This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt's dragged into another one of her friends plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for being late with the chapter! I've had three major assignments in less than a week. Also this chapters kind of bad sorry again.

“She was doing  _ what _ ?!”

Toby sighs. He looks as if he was preparing for her exact reaction. But Matt, she feels like Christmas has come early.

“Yeah, she was sneaking around in Dr. Bellum’s lab.” He tells her, in a quiet voice. They’re in her room, the second one up from the bottom, the door shut tight.

“Oh my god, what was she doing!?”

“I don’t know - would you stop acting like you’ve won the lottery! - Look, all I know is that she took something, otherwise I wouldn’t be telling you.”

Matt grinned.

“What did she take! Oh, my god, I  _ cannot _ wait to lord this over her!”

Toby rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. That’s why I’m telling you, I need your help.”

“Why?”

“I need you to figure out what it was.”

“You want me to steal from Rosalind?! Man, you are delivering  _ everything _ today, Toby!”

“No! I don’t want you to take it! I want you to figure out what it is!”

“Why?”

“Curiosity. What would she need in that lab? As far as I’m aware, she’s never been inside there before, and suddenly she’s searching around Dr. Bellum’s shit?”

“Wait, weren’t you guys also there to search around Dr. Bellum’s shit?”

“Yeah, but we were looking for grog and like, weird sex toys she’s probably built. Completely different. Whatever she was taking, it wasn’t booze.”

  
  
  


His tone in the last part piques her interest.

“You think she’s up to something, don’t you?”

Toby looks down. “It’s just a hunch. It’s probably nothing, but, I don’t know, she just didn’t have a reason to take what she did.”

Matt was good at going off hunches. All it took was the suggestion, and she was there.

“So, what do you want me to do?”

Toby looks away. “You’re… not gonna like it.”

“What?”

“I want you to befriend Rosalind. If you get close to her, you might be able to weed it out of her. Or find it yourself.”

“What!? No!”

“Why? What’s it going to take, an apology? It’s not a big deal!”

“For you, maybe! But half the things she said to me! Nope. There is no coming back from that.”

Toby looks dismayed.

“But we had a heart to heart about this! I thought we grew as people!”

“Fuck growing as people, I wanna stick it to Rosalind!”

“No!”

“Look, I’ll try my best to figure out what she took, but I’m  _ not _ getting buddy buddy with her.”

Toby gave her a look. The look.

“What, no Toby, stop. Stop giving me the look.”

“I’m not giving you a look.”

“Yes you are you’re giving me the puppy eyes look.”

“No I’m not the puppy eyes look is something else entirely my face is not pulling the puppy eyes look whatsoever.”

“Just because it works on your sister does not mean it works on me! Stop it! No! No… wait. That’s not the puppy eyes look! Wait! You’re giving me the Gray look!”

“The Gray look?”

“You’re giving me that look Gray gets when he wants you to follow along with him, don’t bullshit me!”

“No, I would never attempt to manipulate you like that.”

“You’re literally doing it right now stop it, stop that!”

“Can you prove that I’m doing it? Can you? No, because I’m not doing it.”

“I’m not falling for it this time. I’m not. No! No befriending Rosalind! I’m not!”

“Please Matt? Please, just try it! The things we could do with that kind of information!”

“No! Stop it!”

“Pleeeeease?”

“I won’t, stop looking at me like that!”

But Toby had her. They knew he had her.

“Ok, ok fine! I’ll do it, just leave me alone!”

Toby grinned, almost maniacally.

***

So Matt was now stuck trying to knock on Rosalind’s bedroom door. With nothing but Toby’s advice and his blessing. 

“Just apologise, first. Baby steps!”   
  


“I’m not 5, Toby, I know how to apologise to people.”   
  


“But have you actually done it before?”

“Yeah, obviously!”

“And meant it?”

“Ok, fair. But I don’t mean this, either! I’m just doing it for you.”

“Try to mean it. Please.”

Matt takes another breath. This shouldn’t be as difficult as it is. Matt never pictures it being this hard. But it always is. She feels like she’s about to give a presentation. Matt could perform for hundreds, thousands, it didn’t matter. She was fine. But make her do a speech? Absolutely not. 

Still, she’s here on a favour. She’s not about to back out on a favour. 

Anyway, maybe this might be good for her, a small part of her thinks.

Maybe.

So she gathers up all of her courage, and knocks, three times. 

“Who is it?”

“It’s, um…” She’s not even one sentence in and she’s already running out of words. “Matt…”

It’s silent. For one minute. Then two. It’s tipping onto the third when Matt knows it’s probably a lost cause. She’s about to pack it up and go home, turning away from the door, when it opens.

“Oh!”

“What do you want?” Rosalind asks, her arms crossed and face apprehensive.

“Uh... right….” Every word Matt’s prepared swiftly disappears from her mind. Alongside every other word she’s ever learnt. Rosalind raises an eyebrow.

“Well… you see… I um, came here to… um…”

“What is it, Matt? Cause I’ve got work to do.”

Matt’s running out of time. She has to steel herself, swallow her nerves down. She still can’t remember how to speak. 

She takes a deep breath.

“I came to apologise!” She bursts out, and Rosalind shifts, eyes wide with surprise.

“Ok...”

“Well, um, ok. I’m sorry I started shit with you for no real reason. I’m sorry I said you had a stick up your asshole, and that you were incapable,  _ and _ a suckup, and I’m sorry that I called you a kiwi bitch…”

“You never called me a kiwi bitch.”

  
  
  
  


“I’m sorry that I called you a kiwi bitch, internally.”

Matt looks up from where she’s been staring down at her feet. Rosalind doesn’t look impressed, or convinced. At this point, Matt just wants to get this over quickly. She just wants to go back to Toby and have him come up with a new plan. That doesn’t involve her. So she can curl up in her room and die from the embarrassment quietly. In peace.

“Um, uh, that’s everything… I think.” She says, laughing awkwardly and wanting to melt. “So, just, uh… wanted to clear the air on  _ that _ .”

Rosalind doesn’t respond.

“Ok, cool! I’m just, going to go… away… right now. Sweet? Sweet… ok bye!”

She turns, and walks away, wanting nothing more to find a small hole to crawl into. And combust. Toby’s plan was a lost cause before they even started.

“Matt, wait!”

The surprise stops Matt before Rosalind’s words do. She turns, and Rosalind’s still in the doorway, but she’s not looking at Matt like she’s trying to turn her to stone anymore, so it’s an improvement. 

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry, too.” Rosalind says, “For those things that I said, back when we had that fight. They really hurt you, and it was wrong of me to bring Toby into it, and I lost control when I shouldn’t have.” The apology’s so much better than Matt’s could ever be. But she looks at Rosalind, and for the first time since she knocked on the door she feels at ease. 

“No, don’t apologise. I…. I goaded you into that. I was angry and I’d had a bad day and I was looking for a fight. You just happened to be there, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok.” Rosalind says, and Matt just sees the faintest smile.

“Cool. Ok! Cool! I’m gonna go now. I’ll um… I’ll see you around!”

“You too, Matt.”

Matt heads downstairs only to see Toby on the couch in the common room, sipping tea with Benedita. They meet eyes, and the knowing expression on his face was almost enough to ruin her good mood.

***

Rosalind hasn’t spoken to her since. Then again, Matt hasn’t seen Rosalind since. She’s been caught up, a surprise assignment from Bellum had all of them caught up. Matt ended up spending the weekend holed up in the boys’ common room, giving input where needed, getting help where wanted. Mainly keeping Toby from a fatal caffeine overdose. Which was why she was there in the first place.

But it was done. So they all showed up on Monday exhausted, downing coffee like shots, but it was done. Matt was too tired to think about it when Rosalind greets her, dark circles contrasted against her drained skin.

“Good morning, Matt.”

“Morning-” She yawns. “Sleep well?”

“Did any of us? I don’t think the thought of a pillow has ever been more appealing.”

Matt laughs, her head still in her arms.

“Well, I’m going to go grab some coffee.” Rosalind tells her. “You want a refill?”

“Please.”

Rosalind leaves the table in silence.   
  
“Am I seeing things?” Matthias whispers to Kolya. “Did they  _ actually  _ have a conversation, just now?”

“I think they did… they actually did.” He whispers back.

“Are we hallucinating? At the  _ same time _ ?”

“No, I saw it too…” Michiko says.

Matt turns to look at them. “What?”

“I’d explain, but I don’t know if you’re actually real right now.” Matthias squints at her.

“Be quiet, Matthias.” Benedita chimes in. She turns to Matt. “It’s just, you two haven’t spoken for 2 months. It’s odd to see you two being friendly.”

“Not that it is bad!” Michiko says. “It is just surprising.”

“Well, things change with time, I guess.” Toby shrugs. He looks at Matt out of the corner of his eye. His lip quirks.

***   
  


“You’re doing good. We’ll be able to get whatever she took soon.” Toby tells her. They’re in the hallway, with 10 minutes to spare before their next class. 

“Why do you want it so badly?” She asks again. “Do you actually think she’s up to something?”

“I don’t know.” Toby says, “I just want to be on the safe side.”

“If you want to be on the safe side, why haven’t you gone to the faculty?”

“Because if it’s nothing, do I really want to go and be the one who snitched? I just want to make sure.”

“Ok. Fine. I respect that. But she’ll get suspicious if we come on too strong. Give me some more time.”

Toby’s face falls slightly. “Alright. Just don’t wait too long.”

“I won’t. You’ll know what it is soon enough, just wait. It’s still super awkward between us, I can’t just waltz into her room and grab it.”

She checks her watch. VILE issue, like the rest of her uniform. She misses her clothes. “We need to get going if we want to make it to the gymnasium on time.”

“Shit, yeah.”

They head back down the hallway, running into Chae-Min at the end of the one coinciding. The three of them head to the gymnasium together.

***

Ironically enough, opportunity presents itself in that same gymnasium, three days later. Not the opportunity Toby would want, but nonetheless. They’re warming up on the sparring mats, getting ready for a match, when Rosalind approaches her.

“Hey.” 

“Hey.”

“I was wondering…” Rosalind starts, “Would you like to spar together? You’re really good and I wanted to get some pointers up close.”

Their peace had been easy, Matt had thought. But the others clearly hadn’t seen it that way. The moment Rosalind spoke tension bleeds through the room. Everyone’s looking at them. Their faces say it all.

“I mean, sure, I’d have to ask Toby, thou-”

“I’m absolutely fine with it go ahead.” Toby cuts in quickly, standing up. “I’ll go spar with Kolya.”   
  


He walks over to Kolya’s mat before either of them could say anything. 

Huh. Must’ve  _ really  _ wanted whatever Rosalind took, Matt thinks.

Rosalind smiles at her. “Shall we?”

Matt falls into stance with ease. Out of everything she’s learnt at VILE, fighting is closest to home for her. She moves, and she’s aware of every part of her body moving to her command. Every point of contact she can feel the energy coursing through her, through her arm, through her leg, like her blood’s turned to molten gold. She can create and she can destroy. She’s in control.    
  
It’s like she’s dancing, again. And a fight feels like a performance. 

“Alright.” Coach Brunt calls, from the front of the room. “Go!”

Matt goes in first. She throws a punch, Rosalind blocks it, but Matt’s moved before she can counter, shifting around. They’re on opposite sides now, Matt turns, leg already outstretched to catch Rosalind before she can respond, and it works. Rosalind’s unbalanced now. Now Matt just needs to keep it that way. She continues her assault, and she’s pushing Rosalind back, now. They’re moving back, now. To Rosalind’s credit, she’s holding her own, she’s blocking Matt’s hits where she can. The fight was one of the longest Matt’s fought since arriving at VILE. But Rosalind’s slow. For every hit she blocks Matt hits another twice as fast. She’s at the end of the mat when she makes her move.

And her move is a fist straight between Matt’s ribs.

Matt can’t breathe. 

For a harrowing second, Matt can’t breathe. It’s the same sensation when a partner dropped her for the first time. The panic. She’s tearing up from the pain.

But she sees Rosalind about to go again. And she, still gasping, swings her leg into Rosalind’s side.

It must have been the surprise. Rosalind must have thought that Matt was nearly down. Because Rosalind stumbles again, and falls off the mat.

Matt relaxes as much as she can when she can’t even inhale. 

“That was a stupid mistake, Matt.” Coach Brunt’s voice behind her makes her start. She nods, catching her breath.

“You’re a good fighter, but you keep leaving stupid openins’! You’ve gotta stop relyin’ on your speed.”

She can’t speak, so she nods again. She reaches out to help Rosalind up. 

“You’re too slow, Rosalind. You were practically handin’ Matt the win. One good hit ain’t gonna mean hell if you’re that easily overpowered.”

Rosalind nods as well.

“Are you ok?” Toby asks her, having appeared at her shoulder. “You’re a bit pale.”

Her ribs were still smarting, and she’s only just got enough breath back to speak.

“Yeah. Just winded.”

“Now, don’t think I didn’t see you two throw the fight back there.” Coach Brunt turns to Toby, who blanches. “If y’all ain’t in the mood for fightin’, perhaps 20 laps of the gymnasium should boost your spirits.”

Toby has to struggle to keep his face impassive as he nods. Matt can tell by the twitch of his lips. He leaves, grabbing Kolya on the way, trudging off to their punishment. Brunt turns back to them. “Go again.”

They do.

***   
  


“You’re focusing too much on your stance. There’s no point having perfect technique if you can’t use it.”

“What do you suggest I do?”   
  


“Try less thinking and more doing. Stop trying to land the ultimate hit and start trying to land the right hits.”

They’re at dinner. Rosalind’s sitting across from Matt, too caught up in their conversation to eat. The others seem to have moved on from the initial shock of them no longer despising each other. The spars that afternoon had broken the tension they all felt. Well, except for Kolya. He was too exhausted to lift his head. He wasn’t one for stamina. 

Toby nudges her, just as Benedita asks Rosalind a question, and she looks down. Toby’s hands resting on the bench between them. Palm facing up. Something was written on his wrist.

_ Do it tonight. _

She looks up at him, and shakes her head, slightly. He gives her a look:  _ Why not? _

She doesn’t reply.

***   
  


“Come on Matt, it’s been a week, surely it’s long enough to make a move?”

“Yes. Ok. I’ll try something, just give it a rest!”

“Well maybe I would if you’d just hurry up!”

“Why are you so obsessed with this?” She asks. The boys’ common room is miraculously empty, but Toby’s still on edge, still looking over his shoulder. She doesn’t know why, if Toby’s telling the truth, they were all there. They all saw it.

Toby glances around, and his eyes are suddenly filled with blinding anxiety. “Matt, I can’t get it out of my head.”

“Get what?”

“At first, I just thought it was weird. I was just curious. But it’s gotten out of hand. I was just suspicious, but now I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m scared, Matt. I can’t tell anyone because I don’t know if I’m just making up or not. But what if Rosalind isn’t all that she seems? What if she’s a… she’s a…”

“A what?”   
  


“A spy. What if she’s trying to destroy VILE? Matt, if we get discovered, what would happen to us? What would we do? Matt, we’re already wanted by the police! This was supposed to keep us safe! If Rosalind blew this whole thing wide open, we would lose everything. And there’s nothing I can do to get it out of my head except find answers. Matt, I want to  _ stop thinking about it _ .”

Toby’s looking at her, and he looks  _ terrified _ . 

“Do you genuinely think that Rosalind could be dangerous?”

“Is this just all in my head?” He asks her, quiet and desperate.

Maybe it is. But that’s not what matters right now.

“Whatever it takes.” She tells him. “I’ll do it. 

***

So now she’s knocking on Rosalind’s door, three days later. It’s a study date. With studying. And a side of stealing Rosalind’s shit.

“Hey!” She smiles, when Rosalind opens the door.

“Hi! Come in.” Rosalind steps aside to let her in. Her room was impeccable, but Matt didn’t expect anything else from her. There was nothing that looked even remotely out of place. Everything in Rosalind’s room was pure intention. It also smelled strongly of lavender. 

“Make yourself at home.” Rosalind says, just a little bit awkwardly. “I just need to pop off to the bathroom, first.”

“Ok.” Matt finds the comfiest spot of hardwood floor to rest her pillow on. She stacks her schoolbooks as Rosalind closes the bathroom door behind her. Silence.

Matt never expected this kind of luck this soon in. If she doesn’t move now, she might not get another chance. 

She tries to remember what Toby told her. It could be anything out of the ordinary. It could be well hidden. It could not be. That’s what he told her. Matt reminds herself not to listen to what Toby tells her anymore.

Still. She goes around the room, at the point where it’s just subtle enough to not be suspicious. As quietly as she can. On tiptoe. Demi-pointe. Where she’s best. 

Nothing, on first appearance, though Matt does catalogue the lack of sentimental objects for further reference. She looks at the desk. Nothing. The bedside table. Nothing. The bookshelf. Very little. She’s about to upgrade to absolutely and thoroughly snooping if she doesn’t get results soon. But something tells her to wait. Make sure there’s nothing that can’t be found without compromising herself. 

She creeps closer to the shelf. Kneeling down. Making it look like genuine curiosity. She notices that Rosalind, for all her cleanliness, hasn’t dusted. Or touched these objects. In a  _ while _ . 

Life choices aside, she’s not stupid. She knows the advantage here. 

Matt looks closer, following the fine film of dust. Looking for one break in the pattern. Nothing. Nothing of hope. Unless Rosalind’s hidden it in a book, there’s nothing. Matt really does need to start snooping. Excellent, she thinks. Matt silently curses Toby for getting her into this mess. That is, until she’s three shelves from the bottom. 

Then there’s one of those little Russian dolls. Completely spotless. There’s even some smears in the dust around it. 

This couldn’t have gone better if Matt had asked for it. 

Now, she’s no expert on nesting dolls, but last time she checked, they were generally a lot bigger than this one. Maybe this was one of the baby babushkas, she thinks, that would explain its size. And she can’t exactly bring Kolya in to confirm it, resident expert or not. Looking back to the bathroom, Matt picks it up. 

And shakes it. For good measure.

Silence. 

Well now Matt just has to snoop. Not that she wasn’t snooping before. But now it’s official. 

She grabs each end of the doll, and twists. And it moves.

With a heart stopping screech.

Matt freezes. Eyes on the bathroom door. She’s too shocked, too stupid, to think to put the doll back on the shelf. Toby would be ashamed of her. 

But nothing happens. Matt holds her breath for a terrifying few seconds. Counting to 20. But nothing happens. 

She pulls again. She’s risked too much to just give up. And this time, the doll comes apart with a pop. 

A rolled up piece of paper falls out onto the floor.

The toilet flushes. Matt hastily shoves the halves back together and shoves it back on the shelf. She picks up the piece of paper before she can think that Rosalind might have placed it in there for a very important reason, and might possibly want it back. And that Rosalind’s going to come out soon so Matt should absolutely hide this thing if she doesn’t want to end up as Kiwi mincemeat. Well, Rosalind was vegetarian. But the point still stands.

But instead, she lets her curiosity get the better of her. She opens it. Of course she opens it.

But she can’t control the drop of her stomach when she does. She can’t control the shock that runs down her spine like a wave, locking her in place.

Because it’s Toby. Smiling up at her. From the picture. And there, next to him. 

It’s Gray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry guys, next week we'll be back with Gray again... I miss my boy.


	23. Gray, Pseudo Secret Agent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gray and Amelia join Team Red. Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've missed writing Gray so much oh my god. Also his concept design looks like a cockatoo with a cocaine addiction and I absolutely love it.

If Gray was absolutely honest with himself, he had no clue what he expected when he took Carmen up on her offer. But somehow life on her team (gang? crew? agency? They were 6 people and a 14 year old. Not exactly a company.) had managed to subvert every single one of them. Based off of what Gray knew of Carmen, he expected whatever headquarters they had to be something a little more, well, sleek. And red. A lot of red. And a general degree of elegance. 

A rebranded clothes factory was… not it.

He had no clue why he was surprised, really, it made total sense upon reflection. And it was a nice place, too, open and airy, and he had a room on the second floor (sure, it was a little empty and a little dusty, but Carmen said that they could fix that). Amelia’s room was across the hall, two doors down (just as dusty, just as unused, a little bit bigger than his), but he did have a mental vision of something a lot more high-tech.

Then again, Gray had been in transit for 17 hours. He would have slept on anything that stayed still enough at that point. He really didn’t have the mental capacity to compare his expectations with his reality. 

Gray and Amelia had arrived at headquarters in early February. It was now April, and Gray still hadn’t adapted. He wasn’t used to the way things worked at Team Red (which was their name, apparently. They were really going ham with the colour motifs), and it was clear to him that everyone else was used to this way of life in a way that he just wasn’t. There was no sense of stakes in the world of Carmen Sandiego. They’d be running for their lives, beaten and bruised, and be laughing about it a minute later. Zack and Ivy had literally been kidnapped in a mission gone wrong not even a month ago, and Gray had only heard about it after the fact, when the three of them had shown up not even three days later. With ice cream. The things that would,  _ had _ , terrified him, were casual affairs to them. They were completely unfazed in a way that Gray never could be.   
  


Which was probably why he hadn’t been on a mission yet. Or left the house point blank. 

That wasn’t the reason Carmen had given him, to be fair. She’d said that he at least needed some form of preparation before she could think about putting him on missions. VILE was the best of the best, she’d told him, there was no way she could justify letting him face them without any sort of training. But he knew the true reason she was holding him back. He just wasn’t mentally capable for it yet. He was too easily set on edge, too easily spooked, too quick to get irrational. And it wasn’t an unfair assumption on Carmen’s part, either, not after the fact that they drugged her to get information out of her, not after the way Gray lost control. He needed to be able to handle high stakes situations the way Zack and Ivy did, that same combination of determination and humour, that same nonchalance. 

When Gray was put under that same sort of pressure, his ribs had come out looking like a preschooler’s art piece. 

Anyway, it wasn’t that he disliked staying at headquarters, even if he was technically stuck there (Carmen didn’t want him going out alone. He didn’t really get it, but he wasn’t in any position to argue with her). He got on well with Zack and Ivy, even if they were a little cold with him at first, evidently still a tad upset about the whole ‘drug and interrogate’ incident, but they respected Carmen enough to move on from that. He rarely spoke to Player, but they got on well when they did (Gray was still trying to wrap his head around that their world class hacker was a 14 year old Canadian, but he was trying). Shadowsan was the textbook definition of standoffish, he’d gripped Gray’s hand hard enough to break it, but Carmen said he was normally like that. Gray had the sense that Shadowsan had already gotten the measure of him, and didn’t like what he saw. It was unfair, but he could handle it. 

At least for him it was only one person. For Amelia, it was half the house. 

Carmen was nice to her, that wasn’t the problem. Despite her initial hesitance, she’d welcomed Amelia with nearly open arms. Of course, Amelia, like Gray, still wasn’t allowed on missions yet, but that was a fair call. None of her work with ACME had been on par with the stuff Carmen did on a daily basis. There was also the fact that she was barely an adult, barely tipped 5’3”, and only survived the last (and probably only) fight she’d been in because of a syringe full of ACME wonderdrug and quick thinking. And she wasn’t always going to be able to play dead when things went wrong.

And she was doing well, too. Amelia took on everything with a fierce determination, a refusal to back down. It was almost as if she was challenging the world around her, demanding that the things she struggled against bent to her will. Like she was in constant battle with her own weaknesses, and she was winning. Gray couldn’t help but sit back and admire her for it.

But Zack and Ivy didn’t like Amelia. Whether it was her ACME connections, or the drugging incident, or just her general disposition or some other reason that Gray couldn’t even fathom, they did not like Amelia. Not that they were overt about it, they respected Carmen’s decision enough to treat her with some cold cordiality, but that’s all it was. And particularly when they were so warm with Gray, it was obvious. He could tell it upset her, but she braved through it. He never knew how she just braved through it. 

Carmen and Shadowsan were on a mission. Just the two of them and Player (did that kid sleep? Did he go to school? Where were his parents? He astounded him). Which left Gray, Ivy, Zack, and Amelia in the house. Which was fine, he guessed, but cabin fever was starting to set in. It wasn’t that he was trapped there, he could leave at any point, but he knew nothing about California, and wandering around the city alone was a bad idea. But it’d been two weeks. He was starting to get a little bit, well, on edge. 

They’d ordered a pizza. None of them were good enough cooks not to. 

“Ok, so I overtake this guy, Ivy’s flipping shit, he catches up to me, I look over and it’s the local drug dealer. Turns out the cops were after him the whole time.”

“No fucking way!”

“Yeah, so that was the last driving lesson I ever gave him.” Ivy says, through a mouthful of pizza.

Gray laughs. It’s nice. But something feels just a little bit, well… odd. There’s something underlying, maybe it’s just the fact that Gray hasn’t stepped outside in a fortnight, but it’s tense, it’s tense. And he knows that something’s bound to go wrong. 

“Wait, you knew the guy was a drug dealer?” Amelia asked. Maybe she thought that the atmosphere was relaxed enough to warrant her to ask. But it isn’t now. The room’s suddenly 3 degrees colder, and Amelia can feel it too, Gray can tell. 

Something’s bound to go wrong. And this is something.

“Yeah. Why?” Ivy asks, suspicious, or just tense, and Gray looks at Amelia, and she  _ tiny _ . It’s been months, of course she would be. 

“Oh, I was just curious, it’s nothing really, just wondering… and anyway… I just thought…”

“Anyway,” Gray cuts in, “Did I ever tell you about the first time I crashed my-”

“Thought  _ what _ ?” Ivy asks, and Gray’s heart sinks.

“Nothing! I just, for me, at least, to me, I just wanted to know, well, if you knew he was a drug dealer, you should’ve called the cops, right?”

Oh no. Gray’s breath catches a little. He almost can’t bear to watch. 

“Not all of us go whining to ACME every time something bad happens in our neighbourhood.” Ivy says, icily. 

If it was any more than a metaphor, Amelia would have shrunk away into nothing. He could have seen drift away, like a dandelion seed. Had he lost focus of her, even for a millisecond, she would have disappeared from view. But it’s not a metaphor, and maybe that’s worse, because now he has to see the look on her face, even as she looks down at her lap. 

“Ok, let’s just chill out, guys.” He says, trying to salvage something that’s already sunk.

“No, no, it’s fine, they’re right.” Amelia insists, and there’s the faintest tremor in her voice “I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t. Maybe I shouldn’t have spoken at all. I- I have to go.” 

And she’s gone from the table. Before Gray could really process it, she’s gone. And in the silence that followed, Gray dropped all his fronts.

“Was that really necessary?” He asked.

Zack looked down at the table. 

“You guys are kind of being assholes to her.”

They didn’t respond. 

“Why? What did she ever do to you?”

“Aside from the whole drugging me for info?” Ivy asked, pointedly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did Amelia just walk up to you and stick a needle into your neck? Did Carmen just  _ walk  _ into another needle that Amelia had placed there? Did you and Carmen decide to come over to my apartment for a lovely chat? Did I have no part to play in what happened? Or am I just excluded from your anger for some reason, is that it?”

“No, that’s not it.” Zack insisted, “It’s just, well, we know you better and-” he rephrases, quickly, “I mean, Carmen knows you better, y’know from when you helped her out in New Zealand, and your actions were kinda justified, in a way.”

“So it was ok for me to bait Carmen to interrogate her, pretend to be in danger to manipulate her, then stick a needle in her, but it’s not ok for Amelia to help me. Ok. That makes  _ total _ sense.”

“Look, there’s more to it than that!” Ivy said. “You’ve never had to deal with ACME before. They don’t give up easy. I trust Carm’s decision to let her in, but that doesn’t mean I have to trust her.”

“Seriously? This still? What the hell does she have to do for you to actually believe she’s put that behind her?”

“I don’t know. We just don’t trust her.”

“So, what? Because a 14 year old girl tries to do the right thing and makes a mistake, she doesn’t deserve a second chance? She’ll always be evil forever? She has no capacity to change?” 

Zack and Ivy looked at each other, and then down to the floor. Gray sighed.

“Nevermind. Look, I’m going to go make sure she’s alright.”

And he left them there, at the table. 

Amelia’s room was on the second floor, like his. He knocked on the door.

“Go away!”

“Was that a ‘leave me alone, I’m fine’ go away, or an ‘I’m trying to push people away because I feel like I’m expected to be completely infallible and never show vulnerability’ go away?”

“The first one!”

“Are you sure?”

There was a pause.

“No…”

“Can I come in?”

Another pause.

“Please.”

Gray pushed the door open. Amelia’s room was still in a state of unpack, or maybe it was just a mess. The only thing that had stayed constant in the many times Gray had seen it was her stationary, stacked neatly on top of her new laptop, this one completely sticker free, in the corner where he’d imagine her desk would be. Amelia herself was curled up on the bed, still unmade. She was crying. He sat down next to her. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.” She said.

“Do you want to talk about it?”   
  


“Not particularly.”

“Ok.”

She leant her head against his shoulder. He didn’t do anything, the two of them just sat there, quietly, Amelia curled up against his side. 

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know.”

“They’re just upset, they’ll come around eventually. They did with m-”

“I don’t get it!” Amelia burst out. “Why you?!” 

“What?”

“Why do they like you?! Why is it so  _ easy _ for you?! I’ve tried  _ everything!” _

“I-I don’t kno-”

“Why did you just get away with it!? Why did you get forgiven!? Why am I  _ always  _ the one they hate!?”

She was nearly yelling, and Gray didn’t know how to respond. Amelia looked back at him, tears trailing down her cheeks.

“Why is it always my fault?”

“I… ” Gray didn’t know what to say. He tried, again, but nothing came out.

But somehow, miraculously, she understood. They looked at each other, and they understood. Even if neither of them could actually express it.

“How do you do it?” Amelia asked him, quietly. “How do you just waltz in everywhere you go and make everyone like you?”

Ah. Now that one he knew. 

“With years of practice. Trust me.”

But he hoped that Amelia would never have to learn that. He had an excuse, he’d never realised what he was doing, not to it’s true extent, anyway. In his eyes, in the eyes of a version of himself that was much younger, much more naive, it was a means of survival. A means of survival before he even knew how to string those words together. Before he even knew what they meant. Had he had the chance to go back… would he know that he was blowing things out of proportion? Knowing what he knows of his life now? 

Maybe. 

No. 

He’s long forgotten exactly how it felt to see his parents fall apart. But he does remember how it felt to constantly be the perfect son, the compassionate son, the understanding son. How a child had to learn to maintain a facade. He’s pushed it aside, tucked it into its corner, but that doesn’t mean he can pretend it isn’t there.

“You don’t want that, trust me.” He told her. “I know right now that you think you do, but you don’t.”

“You have no idea what I’m thinking.”

“Maybe not. But I think you could use a hug right now.”

He looked at her, arms outstretched slightly. Amelia curled up into him, her face pressed into the conjunction of his neck and shoulder. Gray holds her tightly. She’s short enough that he could rest his chin on her head. The smallest part of him wants to understand how she feels, even if the rest of him is glad he can’t. 

“I miss Australia.” Her voice comes out, muffled. “I miss my family.”

“I know.”

“I wish I never fucking joined that stupid agency.”

“You were 14. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Still.”

“I know.”

“I just thought that this was what I wanted. That this was it.”

“Is it?”   
  


“Yes.” Amelia paused. “But that just kinda makes it hurt more.”

***

The dreams were back. Not that they ever really left, but Gray was at another point in his life when they were the only things out of the ordinary. He’d never thought he’d adjust, but he’d reached that point in his life where having two missing, potentially kidnapped best friends had just become a norm. Well, he still ached whenever he thought about them, but he’d take what he could get at this point. 

Part of him was frustrated, but when wasn’t some part of him frustrated? There was always some anger simmering somewhere (he didn’t know why it was there. Just that it was.). He wanted more, Carmen had promised him she would do what she could, but what was that? Gray and Amelia had been here for nearly two months and he hadn’t seen a lot being done. It wasn’t the fact that he was being sidelined, it was the fact that, whatever Carmen was doing, she was doing anything but what she promised him she would. 

“What did you just say?”

Speaking of, she was leaning against his doorway. 

“Shit, Carmen! Can’t you knock?” He sat up, adjusting his blanket.

“Not really my style. And you left the door open, anyway.”

“Did I?”

“Yeah. What was that just about?”

“What was what just about?”

“That. What you just said. About the… ‘furries’?”

“Oh yeah, that.... Wait. Were you watching me sleep?”

“What? No, no! I came to talk to you about something...”

“And it couldn’t wait until I was awake?”

“No. We’ve got some early morning training.”

“Oh right. Great. My favourite.”    
  


“Since when do you sleeptalk?” Carmen asked, ignoring Gray’s sarcasm.

“Since I lost my memories, why?”

Carmen stared at him. 

“Yeah, I know, it’s weird.” He waved it off.

“I... uh... yeah. It is a bit weird.” She smiled at him, quickly, but it was enough to vividly remind him that he was shirtless and just woken up and probably looked a mess and she was  _ right there _ . He adjusted the blankets around himself, again.

“So, do you have dreams like that, often?” She asked him, nonchalantly curious.    
  


“Every night, give or take. Nearly anytime I sleep.”

“And what’s in them?” She asked quickly.

“Nothing much. Just a bunch of fog and noise. I just say that whenever I wake up.”

“Oh. You see nothing?”

“Nothing.”

Carmen looked worried.

“I’ll be right, Carmen, it’s no biggie. I can handle it.”

She relaxed. “Yeah, you will.” She said, and there was a hint of a laugh in her voice. “I’m going to go get Amelia. I’ll leave you to get ready. 

She closed the door behind her.

***

Training was, to be fair, a pretty broad term for it. It was more ‘Workouts with Carmen’ than anything else. Fair, they were learning how to box, which was useful, but still. She was also showing them how each of her gadgets worked. Which was fun. Gray, secretly, couldn’t wait to get his hands on them, he didn’t become an electrician for nothing, and he was itching to pull them apart, figure out how they worked, hell, even augment them himself. But Ivy was very proud of her gadgets, and any attempt to alter them without her express permission might as well be a declaration of war. And he really didn’t want to pick a fight with Ivy. He liked her, and her, Amelia and Zack were already on uneven footing. They had become much warmer towards her, not enough to be considered ‘friends’ quite yet, but they were getting there. Gray didn’t want to test those waters again by picking another fight. 

And there was the fact that it’d been three weeks since Gray had set foot outside of headquarters. He was definitely starting to show it. Tetchiness had turned into downright irritability the way Spring turned to Summer; suddenly and unbearably. He found himself so quick to rise, so suddenly, too suddenly. The electricity was starting to trickle through him again, the buzz, at his forearms, like a rhythm, waiting to burst out. He was starting to get the urge to scream, at random moments. He needed to get out, and soon, but Carmen was on another mission and Zack and Ivy were busy and he was stuck here. Amelia was a welcome distraction from the constant boredom, but even she had her own life outside of the house. The two of them had to give up their phones, but Carmen had given them both new ones, mainly so Player could contact on their eventual missions, but it allowed for Amelia to keep in touch with her family and friends back home. After all, her spontaneous ‘gap year world tour’ did require some contact back home, and it was entertaining watching Amelia try and gather as much information as she could to make it seem like she was actually going places outside of one American state. She was lucky Player had such a weird amount of historical and geographical information seemingly on hand.

She was on one such call when Gray began to pace again. The pacing had begun three days ago, another symptom of his entrapment, everything that was going on in his brain had become too much to just stay there. He needed to move, so he circuited his room, again and again and again, until he started doing it without thinking. Around and around he went, thinking about anything and everything, trying to quell the currents that were running stronger and stronger through him. 

But today his room wasn’t enough. The more he stared at the same, four, empty walls, the more he wanted to scratch his own skin off. He had to get out of here. 

Gray left his room, and went downstairs. He didn’t know why, but he was starting to feel the urge to dig what was left of his nails into his arms, so he figured it was a good idea. 

“Graham? You okay?”

It was Ivy. Her and Zack were looking at him from the sitting room. He smiled.

“Yeah. I’m right. Just, uh, going off a bit like a frog in a sock, I guess.”

“A frog in a sock?”

“Cabin fever.”

“Ah.”

“You haven’t left the house since you got here, have you? I’d imagine you’d be on edge.”

“Yeah, yeah, too right. What are you working on?”

Ivy shrugged, “Nothing much. Just fixing something up for Carmen.”

“Cool! You mind if I take a look?”

“No, go ahead.”

He sat down on one of the armchairs. 

“Carm broke one of her grappling hooks on her last mission. I wanna have it fixed before she gets back from this one.”

“She goes on a lot of missions, huh.”

“Yeah. Normally she’d bring us, but she’s been going on a lot of solo missions lately.”

“Well, her and Shadowsan missions.”

“I thought solo missions were her thing?”

“Yeah, but we’re normally on backup.” Ivy looked down, deep in thought.

“Well, maybe she’s a bit spooked from when VILE kidnapped you. I mean, if it were my friends…”

“It kinda already  _ is _ your friends.” Zack piped up.

“Zack! Show some tact for once in your life!”

“Am I wrong?”

“I mean, I staged a whole kidnapping just to get a lead on them, so old mate’s kind of got a point.”

Zack’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m younger than you, though.”

“It’s an expression, dipshit.” Ivy said. She turned to Gray. “Anyway, I’m sure Carm will take us on a mission soon. She’s just training you and Amelia up to make sure that you don’t-”

“Fuck it up completely?

“Yeah, basically. But, I wanted to say-”

The front door swung open. Gray started, part of him ready for a fight, but Carmen’s voice rang out. 

“-I jumped straight into their hands. I can’t believe this!”

“VILE is one of the biggest operations in the world. You cannot expect to beat them every single time.”

“Yes, but this hasn’t been a one-off thing. First they go after Zack and Ivy to manipulate me, now they use me as decoy in their own operations. They’ve been getting smarter, Shadowsan.”

Amelia, probably alerted by Carmen’s tone and volume, hurried downstairs, phone still in hand, just as Carmen herself burst into the room, disheveled and furious. She fell onto the couch, and Amelia gave Gray an inquisitive look. Gray gave her one right back.

“What happened?” Ivy asked.

Shadowsan came in behind her. “The mission, it was a ruse. VILE planted a trail to draw us out.”

“They used me as a distraction.” Carmen said, voice cold with anger. “They had me draw the security, and took what they actually wanted instead. 20 pieces from the Hermitage, gone. From right underneath my nose.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Carm. It’s not the first time VILE’s played a trick like that.”

“It’s the first time they’ve gotten away with it. How could I have not seen it coming? VILE’s getting better. They’re getting smarter.”

“What do you mean?” Gray asked.

“VILE’s never made a plan that we haven’t been able to thwart.” Carmen explained. “Until now. Something’s got them upping the ante.”

“VILE would have needed someone to replace me on the faculty.” Shadowsan said. “Perhaps, whoever this person is, they’re a lot smarter than we’ve given them credit for.”

“Faculty?”

Shadowsan looked at him. “I forgot the two of you didn’t know about VILE. Essentially, the organisation is lead by 5 people, referred to as the ‘faculty’. They serve as teachers and leaders to the VILE operatives.”

“And you used to be one?” Amelia asked.

“Yes, I did.”

“Well, whoever they are, they’ve outsmarted us twice, now. And they’ve never even shown their face.”

“Shadowsan, any ideas?” Ivy asked.

“There are some potential candidates, but I cannot pin it down to just one person.”

“What do we do then?” Zack asked.   
  


“We get better too, right?” Amelia piped up.

Everyone looked at her, and she glanced down. 

“I mean, if VILE’s getting smarter, then we have to get smarter to match them, don’t we? That is, what choice do we have? We can’t just let them do what they want when they become too difficult for us to handle, can we?”

Carmen looked up at her. “You’re right. We can’t let VILE get away with it.”

Amelia smiled slightly, before stifling it, quickly. “Look, I worked with ACME for four years, I know incompetence when I see it. This isn’t it.” She stated. “If anyone can do it, we can. Or well, I mean, you guys, can. You guys can…” She trailed off.

“Hell yeah we can!” Ivy said, and Amelia grinned at her from across the room. 

“Yeah.” Carmen agreed, looking around the room. “VILE’s upped their game. It’s time we upped ours. We in?”

Everyone looked at each other. 

“Uh, yeah, obviously.” Zack said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw something online suggesting that To Steal Or Not To Steal was set before the show started, and I think that's kind of cool, but the thought of all that shit going down whilst Gray and Amelia were just... chilling at the house was so stupid to me that I couldn't help but include it.


	24. Gray, The Instructor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gray and Amelia are faced with a daunting task

The box was so inoffensive. That’s what struck Gray the most. It was so inoffensive, so plain. There was nothing on the outside that gave away what was within. 

But Gray knew better. He knew what was inside. How could he not, after nearly losing everything he ever loved to it once before? And it was going to do it again.

  
  


“Man, how’d she manage to get IKEA to deliver so quickly?” Amelia asked.

“I imagine Player managed to pull a few strings.”

“For a desk?”   
  


“Yeah. Somehow.”

Gray and Amelia stared at the box they’d brought into the living room. 

“You really needed a desk that badly?” 

“When I asked for a desk, I meant a desk I’d receive at some point! In the future! Not urgently! Not in less than two days!”

Amelia fiddled with her watch, as she so often did when thinking. She’d started wearing her hair in 2 buns, instead of one. It made her look a lot younger, somehow. But the watch was the same standard issue black one she’d been wearing since he first met her. He wondered if she’d ever replace it.

“I can carry this up, if you want.” He said, turning to her.

She raised an eyebrow. “Your weak electrician ass couldn’t carry a bent twig. Let me do it.”

“Uh, Amelia, you’re also an electrician.”

“I’m an apprentice, actually. Never graduated, remember? Anyway, if your physical ability is matched to mine, that’s really not a good thing.” 

Amelia took one side of the box. Gray took the other before she could argue, and with a little bit of maneuvering, they were able to get it up the stairs. 

“Yeah, you’re right. You’re weak as shit.”

“Yes, exac- hey! Just because I can insult myself doesn’t mean you can!”

“I could tell Ivy was kicking your ass while  _ blindfolded _ , Amelia.”

“She did not kick my ass, it was a fair fight!”

“It barely lasted 2 minutes total! You got knocked out, twice! I had to take you to the ER! It was a terrifying experience!” 

“I won, though!”

“You sneak attacked her and stabbed anaesthetic into her leg!”

“But only as a last resor-”

“Watch your step.”

“Shit!”

Somehow, the two of them managed to get the box into Amelia’s room with only moderate struggle. But it was another feat to find a spot in there to put it. 

“Do you ever clean?” Gray asked her, trying his best to keep a hold on the box whilst making sure he wasn’t standing on any article of clothing. “Your room is a mess.”   
  


“Fuck off,” Amelia said, “it’s organised chaos.”

“Where? Where is the organised? Please point it out to me, I think I’ve missed it.”

“Screw you, I know where everything is.” Amelia kicked aside clothes and shoes and various other objects she had decided belonged on the floor, until there was some sort of relatively empty space for them to set the box down. 

“Ok.” She said, putting her hands on her hips. “How about you read the instructions whilst I put it together?”

“Are you sure we can’t ask Zack and Ivy for help? Because I feel like we need it.”

“We’ll be fine!” Amelia said. “Come on, it’s an Ikea desk, how hard can it be?”   
  


***   
  


“Can we go ask Zack and Ivy for help now?”

Amelia looked down. “I… uh… yes please!”

***

“Should’ve gotten us earlier.” Ivy commented, looking at the mess.

“Try telling her that.” Gray said, tilting his head in Amelia’s direction. He could feel Amelia flip him off, even if he couldn’t see it.

“Luckily for you two, I’m good at this sort of thing.” Ivy told him. “Someone else is gonna have to do the instructions, though, cause Zack can’t read ‘em .”

“Swedish cartoons… my one weakness.” 

“One?”

“Give us a look, hey?” he said, reaching out for the instructions. “I’ll have a go.” 

He could feel Amelia staring at him, but he chose to ignore it.

***

“Right, so we’re supposed to have 8 of the long screws.” 

“There’s only 7 here.” Amelia said, eyebrows furrowed.

“Well where’s the 8th one?”

“I don’t know, but it’s not here.”

“You sure you’re not sitting on it, Zack?”

“I think I’d be able to tell if there was a 1 inch screw ramming against my ass, Ivy.”

“Ok!” Amelia cut in. “Double entendre of that last statement aside, it’s probably lying around here somewhere, we’ll find it.”

“What’s a double entendre?”

“Nevermind.” 

Gray watched as the three of them started to look around.

“Have you tried looking through all the piles of shit Amelia’s left on the floor?”

Amelia gave him a piercing look.

“You know,  _ Graham _ , you could actually be helping us right now, instead of sitting around and being a little shit, right? You are aware of that fact?”

“Ah, sorry, Meels, I can’t. After all, who would look after the instructions? Can’t have them going walkabouts, can we?”

“I will kill you.”

“Right.”

***

“Hey, Zack, what are you doing?”

“Scruce and Scrunina are getting married, but Scrella’s back in town and we’re worried she’s going to ruin the wedding.” Zack said, without looking up.

“Hey, we need those screws!” Amelia started, but Gray interrupted her. 

“No, let him continue. I wanna see if Scrunina finally accepts that she’s a rebound and dumps Scruce for good.”

“What? Seriously? You too? Guys, come on!”

“Hey! Scruce has been fucking Scrunina over for their entire relationship, he spent the whole time leading her on in case it didn’t work out with Scrella, and then the moment Scrella realises she deserves better, he fucks off and proposes to Scrunina to make himself feel better! And then Scrella rocks back up and he has the  _ audacity _ to act like she’s some crazy ex to hide the fact that he felt entitled to the both of them!”

Amelia stared at him. “That’s great, but we need the screws.” And she plucked Scrunina directly from underneath Zack’s nose. On her wedding day, no less. Gray started, about to fight, but Zack raised his hand, stopping him.

“I can work with this.”

Amelia rolled her eyes, and turned back to the task at hand, leaving Scrella and Scruce to their final reconciliation.

“After Scrunina’s tragic disappearance on the day of her wedding, Scruce, reconciled with Scrella at last, finally says what he’s been meaning to say all this time…” Zack narrated. Gray leaned in. 

“Scrella, the truth is, it’s you I’ve loved this whole time.” Scruce confessed, “Scrunina will always hold a special place in my heart, but maybe her disappearance was destiny, Scrella. Maybe we were the ones who were meant to be together.”

Scrella looked at him. “Scruce, when I was gone I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And when I found out you and Scrunina were getting married I knew I had to come back, I had to get it off my chest. But,” She turned away, “I didn’t come back for the reason you think. The truth is… it’s Scrunina I’ve loved, this whole time, not you.”

“ _ What!? _ ” 

***

“That’s not right.” Ivy said, looking at the pieces still on the floor. 

“Well, it’s what the instructions say.”

“The instructions are wrong, then!”

“Really? You really gonna challenge IKEA on their own turf?”

“Yeah, if IKEA’s gonna keep being dumb!”

“Here,” Amelia said, taking the instructions. “let me try.”

She took one look at it, and immediately picked up one of the beams.

“We’ve gotta put the outer beam on first, otherwise we’ll be making our lives harder when we try to flip it upside down.”

“We’re flipping it over?” Ivy asked.

“I’d assume so.” Amelia replied, flipping through the booklet. “Yeah, here, two pages ahead.”

Ivy and Gray stared at each other, as Amelia got to work screwing the beam to the side of the desk that they already attached. He allowed himself a smile.

“Well, that technically means that I was rig-  _ Ow _ !” 

***

“Hey, so, I never actually asked…” Amelia started, as they attached the top part of the desk. “But how’d the two of you end up with Carmen?”

“Well, to cut a long story short: We raided a donut store.” Zack said, offhandedly.

Amelia looked at him, bemused. “Right… um… could I get the long story, please?”

“We got on the wrong side of a loan shark who made us rob the store for quick cash.”

Amelia gaped. Her mouth opened and closed several times.

“What?!”

Zack stared at her, as completely serious as he could be (which, from Gray’s experience, wasn’t a lot). Then, Ivy burst out laughing.

“You should see your face!” She said, breathless. 

  
“Wait, you were kidding!?” Amelia said, laughing as well. “Shit, don’t do that! I can never tell with you two!”

“We’re not kidding.” Zack told her.

“Oh ha ha, sure you’re not.” She said. Then, she paused.

“Wait, seriously?!” 

***

“I’d say that took longer than expected, but it didn’t.” Zack said. Amelia was arranging all her stationary on top of the new desk. The sun was setting through the window, spilling gold on to the glossy white. Gray watched her align her pens perpendicular to her planner, which was in turn parallel to her laptop, which was in turn at the central point of the desk. As was the rule. 

“Thanks for that, guys.” She said, a little sheepishly, once she was done. 

“Yeah, nice ones.” Gray told them. Amelia looked like she was about to say something else, but Zack got there first. 

“Eh, it’s no problem. We kinda felt bad for being assholes to you.” He said, awkwardly.

“Oh!” Amelia looked down, embarrassed. “Uh… it’s ok! It wasn’t that big of deal anyway it didn’t really matter but thanks...”

She trailed off. 

“Glad to see you guys are having fun.”

Carmen was in the doorway again. Gray jumped. Carmen was the one person he could never hear coming (but that was just part of her charm, wasn’t it?). And no matter how much time he had to adapt to it, something about her always set a part of him on edge (and he was never sure which part it exactly was. There was still that part of him that just a little bit into her, and there was that other part that was screaming at him to run. He was used to them coexisting, though). 

“Oh, hey Carm.” Ivy said, completely unperturbed by her sudden appearance. “What’s up?”

“Player’s picked up on VILE movements in Tokyo again.” Carmen said. “We’re going to go check it out.”

“Do you know what it is?” Amelia asked.

“There’s been a lot of action in the Harajuku district. It’d be the perfect place for VILE to set up shop, so to speak.”

“Harajuku!” Amelia said, a little dreamily. “Awesome!”

Carmen smiled. “We can’t get too caught up in the colours, though. This could be another trap.”

“If you think it’s a trap, why are you going?” Gray asked.

“Because there’s a chance it might not be. I have to at least be sure.” She told him. “If VILE’s up to something, they have to be stopped. I won’t be played this time.”

There was a deep set determination in her eyes. Gray nodded.

“When are you leaving?” He asked.

“Tonight. We need to get there as soon as possible to check it out.”

“Oh, ok… cool!” Amelia said, slightly wistfully. 

“How, though?” he asked Carmen. “All travel’s banned.”

“VILE’s not gonna heed quarantine rules, neither can we.”

“Oh. Damn. Ok.” He said, a little taken aback by her determination. Amelia gave him a look that pointed out that he’d led a heist, were immigration rules  _ really _ where he drew the line?

“We’re leaving at 9, so be ready.” She told him.

Amelia nodded. “Well, that’s cool. We’ll uh, see you soon, the- wait a minute!”

She processed exactly what Carmen had just said. 

“Wait. You don’t mean...”   
  


Gray’s heart flipped over with something indescribable. 

“Did you think I’d keep you two stuck here forever?” Carmen asked, smiling. “Pack light, though, we won’t be there long. I’ve gotta go talk logistics with Player, but I’ll see you guys at dinner.”

And she left them, Amelia looking like her heart was going to burst, Gray’s feeling the exact same way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not all too impressed with this chapter but I've been so caught up trying to figure out whether my school is going to close or not but anyway! Happy Quarantine!!!!


	25. Toby, and All the Things Lost in 5 Years Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A picture sparks a revelation, Matt and Toby make their theories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, in quarantine for 2 weeks and the chapter's still nearly a whole week late!! I don't even have an excuse guys I'm just slipping.
> 
> Anyway enjoy the chapter!

When Matt had burst into his room with no degree of her usual grace nor poise, Toby had assumed she’d discovered something either very traumatising, very incriminating, or both. 

Instead, she’d thrown a babushka doll onto his bedspread.

“You took it?” He asked, because Matt was smart enough to know not to take it, Toby knows that, and yet here it is, on his bedspread, incriminating both of them.

“Open it, Toby. I swear to fuck, just open it.”

Her words riled Toby in a way that was specific to the fact that  _ nothing _ fazed Matt, and his brain instantly returned to playing one of its favourite mind games: Anxiety Pinball. He went to take the two pieces of the doll apart, but the impact of its landing on his bed had already done the job for him. Toby stared at the folded up paper that was still resting in one of the dolls halves, which was a slight surprise in itself, as Toby’s general knowledge of babushka dolls supplied to him the idea that, as a general rule, there was usually a smaller one inside. But there was nothing in there but a small piece of paper. This had to be what freaked Matt out enough to have her acting the way she was. It was enough to make Toby’s breath begin to catch, make his heart stutter before he even saw whatever Rosalind had that was enough to make Matt lose all composure when she hadn’t even said anything to her. It was the sensation of a nightmare coming to life, the tension that every horror movie tries to achieve. If Toby listens closely enough he can hear the orchestra playing the suspense. His hand began to shake as he reached for it.

He unfolded the paper and his heart-

  
  


stops.

It stops.

Completely. Toby couldn’t think. Not of anything. Not worth saying.

He looked back up at Matt. She had the exact same expression. 

He looked back down to again be confronted by his 15 year old self, and Gray’s by his side, and it hit Toby like a fist to a mirror that this photo shouldn’t be here, because that photo was taken on Gray’s phone, on Gray’s graduation, on one of the last times that either of them saw each other face to face. But Toby hadn’t known that at the time, well, that wasn’t quite true, he’d had an inkling that their friendship would fade away without the constant contact that school provided, but they were both so happy that day that they were willing to set that fact aside, even if it left Toby a little melancholic. Gray had asked for that photo, Gray was the only one with that photo, and yet here it was, sitting in Toby’s hand when the fact that they were never going to see each other again was a definitive truth.

“This is it?” He asked Matt, and his voice didn’t sound like his own, at least not to him, anyway. “This is what she took?”

“It had to have been.” Matt said, voice nothing more than a rushed whisper. “Have you ever met Rosalind before now?”

“It doesn’t matter if I’ve met her or not.” He replied, looking back down at it. “It was taken on Gray’s phone. At his graduation. He’s the only person who’d have a copy.”

“If he’s the only person who’s got a copy, what the fuck is Rosalind doing with it?” Matt demanded. Toby shook his head.

“Not Rosalind. Bellum. Rosalind took that from  _ her _ lab, the picture was still inside it, what the fuck was  _ Bellum _ doing with it?”

“We don’t know that for sure.” Matt said “Rosalind could have been the one who put it in there.”

“Matt, why the hell would Rosalind have a picture that belongs to someone she’s never even seen before, take it with her to a place in which we’re supposed to have nothing that connects us to our old lives, and then keep it in a doll?”

“Well maybe they  _ have _ met somewhere before! We don’t have complete knowledge of Gray’s life!”   
  


“That doesn’t explain why she’d put it in the doll.”

“But why would Dr. Bellum put it in there?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know, Matt.” He said, a little hopelessly. Matt sat there, as silent as he was, helpless. Toby didn’t know what to think, he just kept looking at the picture, as if there was another answer to all their questions that the ink could provide. But there wasn’t. There was no solution, there was just a younger version of himself, who didn’t know anything about any of this, about where his life was going to end up. But if Bellum had the picture, a picture that was supposed to belong to Gray, what was that supposed to mean? They would’ve had to have met, but how could they have met? How? But Gray had more secrets than the two of them combined, by the nature that they were secret to Gray himself. Maybe their paths had crossed, maybe they had met somewhere, maybe there was something to bind the pair. Then, the gaps in Gray’s memory took a harrowing new context. Had Gray met Bellum  _ then _ ? 

“Maybe… maybe…” Matt started, still sounding a little despondent. “Maybe they found it when Crow was following us. Maybe Gray dropped it, or something. Maybe they had it for another reason than taking it from him.”

“Like what?”

Matt paused, thinking. “Remember when he went to New Zealand?” She asked, eventually. “With Carmen?”

“You’re not  _ actually _ suggesting that Rosalind was behind the New Zealand incident…”

“No, idiot, I’m suggesting that VILE  _ was _ .” Matt said. “Come on, think about it. Who else other than Bellum would have a wacked supervillain’s lab?”

She had a point, it was undeniable that she had a point, and Gray had never been one for exaggeration. But it still left questions that Toby couldn’t answer himself.

“So how did she get the picture then? Did she take it Gray? He would’ve said something about that, Bellum’s not hard to forget.”

“I’m not saying that Bellum took it from him, I’m saying that it somehow ended up in her hands. Gray was doing some crazy shit, he could have dropped the photo when he was... hang gliding out of there, or whatever.”

“Wait, so you think Gray just kept the photo in his pocket wherever he went?”

“Well, I don’t know, does it mean something to him?”

“Not enough for him to carry it wherever he goes. I mean, this picture was the last time we saw each other, well, last time that he still remembers, anyway, but I don’t think it meant enough for him to keep it on his person.”

“I don’t know, it wouldn’t surprise me. You two became ride or dies pretty quickly.” Matt said. “I mean, I know I’m one to talk, but still.”

“Yeah, but it’s always been like that.” He responded. “I mean, we’d always known each other in passing, but one day he just kind of comes up to me and boom: it’s like we’d been best friends our whole lives. And then he graduated, and I barely heard from him again. It was natural, we drifted apart, and it wasn’t like I didn’t have friends other than him. But it ended nearly as quickly as it began. Then, suddenly he’s selling me his car and suddenly he’s gone. Completely. I don’t see him again until nearly four years later.”

It did twinge a little, the loss of their friendship, but Toby supposed that was the price for something as intense as it was, even if intense wasn’t quite the right word for it. It was more instantaneous than anything, it had barely lasted 6 months at most, and it had left something resounding on the both of them. But that was the sacrifice, Toby had been given everything he needed, and in return he had to give it back, just as neatly as he had received it. As was the unspoken command of fate. 

“And you guys just became friends again? Just like that?” Matt asked.    
  


“It was like the past 5 years had never happened. Though, I suppose for him, some of them never really did.”

He had barely believed it, when he saw Gray again. Well, he had barely believed it because he was looking at the back of his head, but still, it had sent a jolt of recognition through Toby before he even picked up on that fact. 

“Graham?” He’d asked, still unsure what he expected when he said it. But the figure turned around and it was, his hair was different, and there was an exhaustion to his demeanor that hadn’t been there in high school, but it was still, undeniably, Gray. 

“Toby?!” Gray had stood up, took one look at him, and simply said, “You’re tall now.”

“You’re still not.” 

They’d stared at each other, a brief pause, before Gray had started laughing, maybe a little maniacally. “You will not believe how happy I am to see you right now.” He’d told Toby, and Toby had never suspected what happened next, never expected what that statement would be followed by, that the answers to all of Toby’s questions would get him into a situation that he couldn’t even begin to comprehend the gravity of.   


And now the questions were raising the stakes farther than he could ever comprehend. It just left Toby to wonder what the answers would do.

But slow down, Toby needs to find the answers first.

“Ok, so, two theories:” he said, and Matt perked up, attentive. “Number 1. Bellum was the one with the lab in New Zealand. Gray dropped the picture, and she kept it. Why? We don’t know, but it’s fitting behaviour for her. Number 2.” Matt, who had been nodding in agreement, furrowed her eyebrows. “Gray put the picture in the doll himself, and it was taken by VILE. Why? We still don’t know.”

“But why would Gray put a picture in a doll? And why would VILE take it from him?”

“I know, I know, it doesn’t make much sense.” Toby said, unsure what he was stumbling upon, but continuing to make the treacherous journey. “But what if it was something that happened during his lost years?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… what if he did something that put him in VILE’s crosshairs… I dunno, enough to make them want to take something of his… enough so they’d at least know who he was… maybe…” He trailed off, suddenly,as the realisation hit him, at the exact same time it hit Matt.

“Carmen.” She said, quietly.

Toby nodded.

“That’s how she seemed to know him so well!” Matt exclaimed. “That’s why she went to him specifically for New Zealand, out of everyone! She trusted him enough to seek him out because she’d worked with him before! They knew each other, he left Australia and got involved with her, for what? Three years?”

“And then, something happens. Something bad. Bad enough that VILE gets a hold of something personal, a doll with a photo inside. Maybe it’s a momento, maybe they don’t care what’s inside at all, just like the patterns and decide to keep it. Gray’s injured in the fallout, and his memories are lost. Carmen brings him back to Australia, we meet him again.”

“But, why?” Matt asked. “Why would Carmen bring him back to Australia? And why just leave him there? Why not try and keep him safe? Why not try and help him recover? And even then, why come back? Why ask for his help again after everything that had happened? If she was done with him, why come back for his help at all?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never met Carmen, all I know is that she’s fighting against them, against us, and that’s only if we’re right in thinking that Bellum owned that lab.”

“You don’t think that she’s dangerous, do you?”

“To us, definitely.”

“No, to Gray.”

“Why would she be? She’s never had a reason to hurt him, and if we’re right, they used to work together.”

“Yes, but that’s my point. Don’t you think it all played out a little weirdly? So, Gray’s got amnesia in some traumatic accident, her decision is just to  _ abandon  _ him? It doesn’t add up. And now she’s back, and even then she won’t tell him how she knows him.”

“ _ If _ she knows him. He could very well be some lighting tech she ran into and remembered.”

“But something just feels wrong. Why would you leave someone stranded with no memory when there’s an evil organisation with reach across the globe who you know can hurt him?”

“No, but I’m not Carmen. Whatever she did, she had to have had her reasons. Anyway, we barely know anything about her. We can’t make a call like that with the information we have.” 

“But we need to make sure Gray’s safe.” 

“It’s Gray, he’s capable of managing without us. Anyway, for all we know, he’s in jail. Carmen’s not getting to him there unless she hatches a prison break.”

“I hate this!” Matt burst out. “I hate not knowing what’s going on out there!”

“I know. But there’s nothing we can do. We just have to wait it out.”

Matt sighed. “So, what do we do now?”

“Now? You need to get that doll back and pray to high heaven that Rosalind hasn’t noticed you’ve taken it.”

Matt nodded, though she still looked a little forlorn. “Ok. I’ll do my best.”

Long after she was gone, Toby lay there, sleepless, staring at his bedroom ceiling. Matt had taken the photo with her, couldn’t risk Rosalind opening it and seeing it gone. Part of him wanted to keep it, keep some semblance of what he and Gray once were with him. But he knew he had to let that go, they had changed too much, Gray had changed Toby too much. He had to let go of the people they once were.

Gray. Everything he had done had gotten Toby exactly where he was now, he had been the crossing of every threshold, the pinnacle of every decision, the implication of every question Toby had ever been asked.

But now?

Now he was the unseen consequences that came with every answer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a lot more delving into the nature of Gray and Toby's friendship in the draft, but I had to shelve it away for a later date. I wanted to include it, but it just wasn't working for the chapter. Either way, I hope you guys are all faring well with the current situation. It's scary and unprecedented (I have to prepare for my HSC online, which like, isn't a massive deal yet, because they're in like, November, but it's also the most important exams of my entire schooling career, which is, y'know. Fine!) but it's also good to know that none of us are alone in this (in a figurative sense, please practice physical distancing!).


	26. Gray, Ground Crew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Red goes on a mission. Gray has a hunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update schedule! Don't know her!
> 
> I'll probably wait until next Sunday to update in order to get the schedule right.

“Say, Carmen?”

“What’s up, Graham?”

“How do you always get someone to fly you places on such short notice?”

“We helped out the guy who owns the company. He agreed to help us out when we needed it as a thank you.”

“Huh.” Gray looked out the aeroplane window, but he couldn’t see much, just the open ocean. He couldn’t say that he was the biggest fan of flying, but the private jet was nice. He could feel Amelia buzzing next to him on the fancy leather couch. 

“You excited?” He asked, but it was a redundant question. Amelia’s excitement was so palpable it was almost a frequency. 

“A bit.” She said, trying and failing to keep the emotion out of her voice. “I’ve always wanted to go to Harajuku!”

“The Harajuku District is notorious for its quirky fashion and styles.” Player perked up. “It’s a hotspot for teenage subculture.”

“And you’d know a lot about teenage subculture.”

“Leave my Twitch streaming habits alone, Red.”

“Anyway, Harajuku fashions are fucking awesome.” Amelia sighed, “I’ve always really liked pastel decora and lolita, but I’ve never been able to try it out.”

“Well, I’m sure we can fit in a shopping trip or two when we’re done.” Carmen smiled.

“Really?!”

“After the mission, sure. I know I could use one.” 

“Hey, what exactly  _ is _ the mission?” Gray asked her.

“We’re picking up VILE chatter in the area, but we can’t figure what they’re targeting. All we know is that they’ve set up some sort of base on Omotesando Avenue. We infiltrate it, and we figure out what their plan is.”

“So, what’s  _ our _ plan?”

“Shadowsan and I will be going in, Ivy’s on decoy. You two are on ground crew with Zack.”

“And what does that mean?” Amelia asked. “What do we do?”

“With any luck, not much. You guys just have to be my eyes and ears in case something goes wrong.”

“Alright…”

“From what we know, this should be a fairly simple mission. We just need people on backup in case things go sour.”

Gray had already figured that this was how it was going to go down, so the knowledge that he was being deliberately kept on the backburner didn’t come as a surprise to him, nor did it get the rise out of him that it normally would. Excluding New Zealand, Carmen had never actually seen him do anything related to the whole… secret agent business, or anything that involved the sort of stealth it required (of course, he had, but not remotely on the level he’d seen her work on, and not for a reason that he’d ever tell her. Ever.) 

Anyway, New Zealand had him terrified for his life. Sitting far away from the action with someone who knew what to do in the event of them being thrown into any action was exactly what he wanted. But he hoped Amelia wasn’t too disappointed. 

Amelia smiled at Carmen, and if it was forced, he couldn’t see it. “Sounds good!” 

*** 

“So, we’ve just gotta wait here just in case Carmen needs us?” 

“Pretty much.” 

They were sitting on a bench outside of Harajuku station, in the cold grey of the early morning. It was already busy, people heading into work, mainly, shops opening up. Player would check in on them on occasion, but aside from that, they were to stay there… and wait. At least they had free reign to buy as much food as they wanted, Zack had assured them of that. 

Gray pulled the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands and balled them into fists, trying to get some feeling back into his fingers. 

“Oh. Ok.” Amelia said, and this time Gray could tell that she was disappointed. “That’s… cool, I guess.”

Zack picked up on it as well. “Hey, Carm doesn’t want you guys getting in too deep. You’ll get your turn. Anyway,” He shrugged, “Some missions are just like this. You wait, you watch, nothing happens. You just kinda chill out for a while.”

“I know, I know, it’s just…” 

  
“You’re disappointed.” Gray said.

“No! No, it’s not like that, it’s… difficult to explain.” Amelia sighed. “I really don’t mean to offend anyone… but...”

“But?”

“I just… I feel, I don’t know, kind of like I’m kind of being sidelined. I mean, I know I’m new to this, but I worked for ACME for four years, I’m not completely useless!”

“ACME’s one thing, VILE’s a completely different ballgame.” Zack said.

“I know, I know.” Amelia sighed, again. “I just expected a little more.” 

“Hey, cheer up.” He told her. “We’ll get our go soon. If we do well here then she’s bound to bring us on the next one. And luckily, there’s not exactly a lot here to do well at.” He told her.

“Yeah.” Amelia smiled a little bit at the thought, and Gray took the chance to make a grab for her bubble tea, taking a sip.

“Hey! Hey! Give that back!” She clawed for the cup, but Gray held it out of her reach. After several more moments of dodging her hands, he set it back down on the table, and Amelia snatched it away. “I literally asked if you wanted one and you said no!” She said, affronted. “Get your own!”

Gray gave her a shit-eating grin in response.

Time ended up passing much faster than Gray had expected it to. The crowds around them got bigger as the morning slowly wore on, and even if he still couldn’t remove his hands from where they were tucked in his sleeves, the weather had gotten warmer, and it was actually alright. They sat there, talking about whatever they deemed worth talking about, or commenting on the lives of the crowds around them, scathing judgements or words of advice, whatever was deemed so necessary (either way, Gray and Zack relegated most of the opinions to Amelia’s expertise). Amelia, who was getting up for another cup of bubble tea.

“What do you want?” She asked, turning to him.

“What?”

“What kind of tea do you want?” 

“I told you, I don’t want anything, bubble tea’s not really my thing…”

“And yet you can’t stop scabbing off of mine.” Amelia said. “Just tell me what kind you want so I can get you some and me and  _ my _ bubble tea can live in peace.”

She left no room for argument. Gray sighed.

“Matcha, full sweet, full ice, pearls, milk foam on top, please.”

Amelia smiled, turned and left. Gray watched her go, weaving through the people on the street around her. Crowds were nothing new to him, he’d worked at one of Australia’s biggest landmarks, but Tokyo had a rhythm that Sydney just didn’t match. Everything had a place here, and every place had a movement, and every movement had a goal. It was easy to get caught up in the stream of it all, and even if he was used to crowded streets and crowded spaces, there was something here that he couldn’t see back home. Maybe it was the fact that this was a language he could barely speak, it reminded him that was watching these people as a closed world, a snow globe of sorts, that everyone around him had lives and stories and goals that he would never see, an intricate framework so vast that he could never fully comprehend it. This could’ve been the most important day of some of these people's lives, or the worst, or the best, and Gray would just be a spectator, forever a spectator in these peoples’ stories, and that’s if they even noticed or remembered him there. For some, in some versions of this day, he didn’t exist at all.

_ (Sonder - It’s kind of like those moments when you realise that strangers you pass by have lives just as complicated as your own, but they’re just an extra in your story.) _

He thanked whatever part of his brain provided him with that voice again, he had forgotten what she’d sounded like. 

And then something, someone, caught his attention.

There was a woman weaving through the crowds. Which, in itself wasn’t abnormal, but it was the fact that she had electric blue hair combined with skin paler than bone. She was something incredibly vivid in all the wrong ways, and he would’ve just chalked it up to fashion, but something about her rang every warning bell in his mind, something artificial, something uncanny. 

“Zack, do you see that girl over there? With the blue hair?”

Zack turned around to look.

“Yeah, what about her?”

“Doesn’t she look suspicious to you?”

“Not really, why?” 

“I don’t know, something’s off.”

“What’s off?” Amelia asked, returning with two cups. 

“That girl.”

“What girl?”

“Over there.”

“She doesn’t look like any VILE agent I’ve met.” Zack told him. “Just kinda… bright.”

“It’s probably nothing, Gray.” Amelia told him, handing him his cup. “It’s just a fashion, you’re overthinking it.” 

Amelia was right, he was overthinking it. But admittance of that fact wasn’t enough to cure it, and the only way he was going to let it go was to satiate that part of him. He knew what Carmen had told him, he knew that he wasn’t to leave Zack’s side, but there was something brewing in the back of his mind, and he was never good at ignoring the back of his mind, he had let the Machine slither its way out of there, after all, and look where it was now. Reminding him that it was always there, always happy to be of service, all he had to do was listen to it. All he had to do was rely on it again. So he would.

He stood up, and began to move. 

“Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah! Where are you going?” Zack demanded, moving around to stop him.

“I've got a hunch. I’m going to follow her.”

“Woah, what?! We’re ground crew! First rule of ground crew: you don’t ditch ground crew!”

“I’ll be gone for 10 minutes, tops.”

“You can’t!” Amelia said. “What if something happens, what if Carmen needs us?”

“If she actually thought the mission was dangerous she would never have brought us, she said so herself. Anyway, you two will still be here.”

“She told us to stay here! We can’t ignore a direct order from her just because you have a ‘hunch’!”

“Well it’s a good thing she doesn’t have to know, then.”

“So, what? If Carmen checks in, I have to lie to her!?”

“That’s the broad strokes of it, yeah.”

“Seriously? Our first mission and you’re going to ignore the  _ one rule _ she gave us?”

“You’ve done much worse than lie to her, come on.”

“That was before she was my boss, Gray! That was before I had something actually riding on not  _ fucking this up _ !”

“What if I’m right, though? What if she’s up to something and we let her slip by because we were too scared of disobeying orders?”

“That’s not our call to make!” Amelia said. “Deciding who's worth investigating is her job, not ours, just sit down and let it go, please!”

“I can’t!”

“Gray, please!” Amelia said, suddenly desperate. “Please, do not ruin this for me!”

It made him soften a little, but not enough. “I won’t, I promise. I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

“No!”

He turned around and, pushing Zack aside, headed into the station.

“Gray! Wait!”

It was a lucky break when he spotted the woman again, the shock of blue hair and pale neck, nearly at the stairs on the other end. Zack and Amelia had lost him precious time, he needed to pick up the pace if he wanted to keep sight of her. 

Speak of the devil, footsteps were thudding up behind him.

“Y’know, if Carmen doesn’t kill you, Ivy absolutely will.”

“I’m not giving this up, Zack, you can go back.”

“No, seriously. Those are the last two people you want mad at you, trust me on that one.”

“I’ve already had Carmen mad at me, remember? Back at the apartment?”

“She wasn’t mad at you, she was having a bad comedown. Carmen actually angry at you is terrifying. So cold…” Zack said, shivering. “Anyway, I’m coming with you to make sure you don’t do something even more stupid.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“You either let me come with you or I make you come back.”

“And how the hell are you going to do that?”

“I have my ways.”

“What, annoying people into submission?”

“Exactly.” Zack said, proudly. “And I’m a natural at it, so you’d better prepare yourself,  _ mate _ .”

Gray threw him a look.

Following the woman through Harajuku was an easy task. Even with the crowds, the electric blue combined with the alabaster of her skin made her impossible to miss. Still, she walked through the early morning cold with an easygoing refinement, an apparent ignorance to the fact that anything about her was eye-catching at all. Gray and Zack followed her through the crowds, Gray adjusting his hood again, Carmen had asked that he hide his face, he could at least follow  _ that _ command. They wove through Harajuku station, and as the woman took to the stairs out into the open air, Gray hurried up, careful not to lose her to the open streets, moving through people hurrying this way and that, trying to maintain his distance whilst keeping her in his sights. They managed to reach the base of the stairs as she was disappearing into the glaring morning light, and he took them two at a time until he was on the open street as well.

He scanned around, searching, searching, the blue, where was the blue?

Turning right. There. 

They followed, to discover a decorated archway onto a small, yet prominent street. There were crowds of people stuck around the entrance, and even without the sign stating it so Gray would’ve known exactly where they were. 

“Huh. So this is it?” Zack asked.

“Takeshita Street. I can see why Amelia likes this place so much.”

Gray had pictured something more fantastical from Amelia’s descriptions, but the street did have the aesthetic of spun sugar, exactly as it had from her words. Each building was built around some sort of theme, varying from soft pink with striped awnings to neon messes of every colour imaginable to sleek black doorways inevitably leading to stairways down below. It was Amelia’s aesthetic, but it wasn’t just Amelia’s aesthetic, it was every aesthetic crumpled up, mashed together and given a name. And somehow, it worked. 

It smelt like a fairground, of people and cooking and warm doughnuts, he could feel the kinetic energy of people trying to move around each other, through each other, the flow that warned him against staying still. He knew that Amelia’s love of this place had embellished her descriptions, but somehow the real thing hit every single exaggeration she had made on the head.

The wind racked him again, and the cold reminded him the reason he was here. And the reason was unlocking a shop door about 50 metres down.

“Well,” Zack said. “We came all this way for a storekeeper. Hunch sorted, let’s go back before anyone sees us.” He turned around, but Gray grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. “And you’re gonna make us go inside, aren’t you?”

“Yup.”

“And I’m gonna tell you that this is a bad idea, aren’t I?”

“Uh huh.”

“And you’re going to ignore me.”

“Sorry, mate.”

“Should I even bother reminding you why we shouldn’t be here?”

“You’re going to anyway.”

“I’m going to any- hey!”

The shop itself was mint green, with two dark brown doors next to a display window, flowers growing from each windowsill on the second floor, and the sign was adorned in cacti and words that Gray couldn’t understand. Even though the doors were already open, a bell tinkled when they entered. It looked like something out of a game. A voice rang out from somewhere behind the counter, saying something in Japanese that neither of them understood. Gray turned to Zack.

“You go check upstairs, I’ll look around here.”

“Five minutes, then we go back, ok?”

“Fine. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious.”

“Of course. I’ve got eyes like a hawk, you know.”

Gray snorted. “Sure you do.”

Zack climbed up the varnished stairs as Gray looked around. There was a closed door to his right, and another entryway to his left, leading to the second room of the shop. The wallpaper was again, mint, pinstriped this time, and the floor was the same varnished wood as the doors and stairs. It was warm and it smelt like vanilla. Whoever owned this place had gone hard with the aesthetic.   
  


The room itself looked like something out of Animal Crossing, but the items on sale looked like someone had taken a paint set to town on them. There wasn’t a single item there that was made as basic clothing, every item he looked at set itself out to take the cake for the gaudiest piece of clothing he had ever seen in his life. There were hot pink glittery shoes in which the heels, which were at least 10 centimetres, were filled with a clear liquid and little floating hearts, clear handbags with actual fairy lights inside them, light pink dresses of a plastic like material that held their shape perfectly. If it wasn’t ridiculous, it was either all too bright or all too pastel. Neutral colours or simple patterns didn’t appear to exist here. Which wasn’t in itself suspicious, just very, very bizarre, even for the area. 

Amelia was right, it was probably nothing. He was about to take a look at the other room, just to be sure, when the door behind the counter opened.

“Konnichiwa!” Her skin somehow looked even paler up close. She had a round face with a prominent nose, and only when he had a chance to look at her properly did he notice that she had two red streaks exactly where her fringe parted, the exact same shade of red as her eyes. Which had to be contacts, there was no way they could be that deep a red naturally (it looked vaguely demonic, but he chalked it up to fashion and left it at that.). As she looked him up and down, he realised that she was, suddenly, nearly as tall as he was, she was wearing high heels he absolutely hadn’t seen her in when he first spotted her, sleek slate grey ones, with strangely shaped heels. 

“English?” She asked, simply, and was that an Australian accent? There was no way, there was no way the universe would align like that (but the universe was a fickle thing, it had a tendency of pulling the rug from underneath him, particularly just when he thought he had a grasp on things.) Either way, it opened up an entirely new avenue for him. And he knew he had to walk it. So he gave her an easygoing, apologetic smile.

“Yeah, guess it’s kinda obvious.” He said, laughing a little. Her eyes widened slightly.

“You’re Australian?! No way! Where’re you from?”

“Sydney. You?”

“Brisbane.” There was something distinctly disarmed in the way she said it, and he knew how to be advantageous.

“So what brings you here?” He asked. “Long way from home, isn’t it?”

“Could say the same for you.” She asked, leaning on the counter. “What brings  _ you _ here?” 

“Business.”

“ _ Just _ business?” 

“Depends.”

She smiled at him, lopsidedly and warmly, but there was just a hint of something else in her eyes, something almost like scrutiny. But it was gone before he could put a proper name to it, replaced with the same energy that radiated off of the rest of her. 

“Well, either way, I own this shop.” She told him. “I designed all of this stuff, always had a knack for it, always liked things a bit more ‘avant garde’ if you catch my meaning, but it doesn’t exactly sell well, back home, y’know? That’s the thing with avant garde, it’s got a very specific demographic, and it wasn’t one I was really finding back home in Australia. Sure it worked well online, for a while, but I’ve always wanted a proper shop of my own, an actual business, it would keep my parents off my back, at least. And, of course, I’d heard of Harajuku, always knew its stuff was right up my alley, so I eventually figured, ‘hey, why not try my hand there?’ So I taught myself Japanese and off I went. My parents were surprised, but when they found out I was able to secure an actual location they were pretty impressed, always wanted me to go to uni, never expected me to actually open a business, but I’ve been here about 6 months now. My name’s Loretta, by the way.”

“Loretta. Suits you. I’m Graham.”

Loretta moved around the counter, “It’s lovely to meet you, Graham. Just give me a yell if you need anything. But, and you’ll have to excuse me for being so forward,” She looked at him, and this time there was definite scrutiny in her gaze, “I think I might have something that would suit you. Come on! I’ve been looking for someone to try this out on for a while.” Before he could even respond, she had grabbed his hand and pulled him into a corner of the shop, where a variation of pastel clothes were being kept.

She picked up a pale green vinyl jacket, and held it up to him. “This is about your size, I think? Well, either way, you can get a different size if it doesn’t fit, but I really think this should work.”

He raised an eyebrow at it. She had to be kidding. Regardless of his own personal collection of varyingly ridiculous jackets that he liked too much to get rid of, there was no way he could look good in that (anyway, out of that collection of jackets he wore maybe two, tops.)

“Are you sure? Isn’t it a bit much?”

“It’ll look great on you, I promise, hey it even goes with your drink! It’s a sign from the universe!” Gray looked down at the bubble tea he didn’t even know he was holding. “Here, I’ll hold it while you go try it on.” She took the cup out of his hands and began pulling him towards the changing room.

“Oh, really, you don’t have to do-”

The changing room door closed behind him. Then opened, as the jacket was shoved into his arms, and closed again.

“Tell me if you need a different size.” He heard from the other side. Gray sighed, and pulled off his hoodie.

Admittedly, it didn’t look half bad. As far as mint green leather jackets went, it almost suited him. Almost. He turned slightly in the mirror, trying to get a different angle. Part of him liked it, part of him didn’t. Sure, it wasn’t something he would’ve ever considered wearing had Loretta not quite literally pushed it into his arms, but he did have a soft spot for cool jackets, and it  _ did _ look good on him. Well, he hoped it did. He wasn’t sure. 

He wished Toby was here. Toby would know, this had always been Toby’s thing, not Gray’s…

It hit him so suddenly it stole the air from his lungs. Dark, brutal pink reverberated against his ribs with enough strength to knock him over, he clutched the edges of the jacket, running his hands over the bumps in the material, trying to let it pass, but he knew he’d just have to wait it out. The bell rang again, but Gray paid it no mind, he’d thought he was past this, he hadn’t had a moment like this in so long, why now? Why here? Why did it suddenly hurt so much again? What was this?

He wanted to cry, in frustration, in rage, in remorse, in everything, all at once, it was a struggle to keep himself upright. He’d never wanted as much as he did now, never wanted to see them again more than in these moments. And yet here he was, no closer to them than he had been when they’d first disappeared, the only woman who had anything close to a lead on them was somehow stalling for time, how? How could she? How dare she? It was burning up in him again, rising erratically, destructively.

His grip tightened on the jacket. Control the flare, control it, bite it back. He couldn’t let it past his throat, he had to fight it, because once it broke that barrier there was no way of knowing what it would do, what he would do. And this wasn’t a time or place where he could break face, even if no one could see him. He forced the gasp out of his breath, slowed his heartbeat down enough for the ache to leave his jaw, for him to be able to relax it without breaking down completely. He couldn’t lose control here, not in this dark varnished room with it’s dirty floor length mirror, not when Zack was so close, even he’d notice something was up. Gray straightened up, everything now back where it should be, and Loretta was waiting for him outside. He would turn back, back to Amelia, and pretend this little expedition had never happened.

“Graham!”

He froze. 

Not because Zack was calling to him, but because Zack was calling to him, panicked, from outside the shop.

“Graham! Help!”

Oh no.

He didn’t even think twice on it, he tore out of the changing room, out of the shop itself, not even considering if Loretta was still there. He tore out into the street, ignoring the stares he got, following Zack’s voice, to the alleyway next to the shop. There were doors down this alleyway as well, some with voices behind it, some notably closed, and as the wind blew dust swirled around his feet, and a small, stray piece of paper caught on his shoe. But there were no people. And, more importantly, there was no Zack. 

“Zack?” He called. “Zack? What the hell’s going on?”

A curtain fluttered down the end of the alleyway, and never before had fabric in a breeze seemed so ominous. Zack had to have gone through there, been taken through there, there was no other explanation, even if it didn’t make sense, there was no way Zack would’ve called for help without having put up a struggle, and Gray would’ve heard a struggle, but he heard nothing, just Zack’s voice.

But that was enough to spur him on. He couldn’t risk another friend, not again, it was too much already.

“Zack?” He said again, hurrying down the alleyway. “Zack!”

There was no response. He broke into a run, tearing down the alley until he reached the end, and he wrenched the curtain aside.

He came face to face with beige, stained wallpaper. 

Gray knew he had to go through, whoever had taken Zack had to have gone through, it made sense, but in his haste he had kicked something on the ground, and it had ricocheted off the wall to rest against his shoe. He looked down. 

It was a tiny capsule of sorts, in fact, it looked like a tiny Roomba. There was a tiny, flickering white light on top, and it was a shiny, chromatic, black, he wanted to run his fingers over it, feel the cool, new metal. But it was so new, in mint condition, just lying on the ground in a dirty alleyway? Gray picked it up, taking a closer look at it, and the metal  _ was  _ smooth,  _ was _ cold to the touch, and entirely all too new to be in a place like this. He ran his hand over the top, over the flickering light, and noticed just the faintest indents in the material. Gray held it up to the light.

They were… it was… a speaker?

He didn’t even have time to comprehend it, to properly make that connection before the adrenaline of the realisation. 

He had to get out of here. Now.

Gray barely had time to turn around before pain exploded in his shoulder, the force of the blow enough to knock him back into the corridor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is 2:42 am right now I'm so tired but anyway I hope you enjoyed the chapter sorry that I was late again.


	27. The Devices in Decora Caper, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hnngghghs I am not too happy with how this chapter turned out.
> 
> Also I'm so hyped for season 3! I mean, now it'll be official that my fic's gone completely off the rail canon-wise but also I missed my girl! And not having to constantly stress about writing her correctly!

Gray barely had time to realise he had moved before he was pinned to the wall, the impact winding him. Gasping for air, he glanced down, to see the blade that had sliced through vinyl and cloth and his own shoulder to hold him to the wall, when another one caught his left arm, pinning that too. Instinctively, he reached over to grab it, but a third caught his sleeve.

He was stuck fast. Like a specimen in a museum.  _ Grahamus Marksus, _ the sign would read,  _ Discovered walking down an abandoned and shady alleyway alone and defenceless because, yes, he is that dumb _ . 

Once there weren’t bands wrapped around his lungs he’d probably be able to laugh at the situation. Right now, he was trying to make sure he could actually breathe.

A figure, his captor, it had to be, glided out of the doorway in front of him, into the light and he felt his eyes go wide before he could stop them. It was the glasses he noticed first, it’d be impossible to notice anything else, they completely changed her face, what was once vibrant energy was now malevolent glee, and despite his fear, he had to comment.

“So, I’m guessing that Loretta isn’t actually your name.”

She giggled, and even though it was the exact same laugh he had heard in the shop, now it was something incredibly sinister. No Longer Loretta didn’t stop in her approach, however, and Gray took her in, trying to control his breathing. He couldn’t show his fear, he reminded himself, no matter how bad it got, it would only get worse if he lost control. 

“Is that a tailcoat?” He asked, instead, because he wasn’t entirely sure  _ what  _ it was, as far as he was aware, tailcoats generally didn’t reach one’s ankles. It was dark green, fastened loosely at the waist, and she was wearing flat shoes again, the exact same colour and design of her heels. She still managed to tower over him, somehow

.

“So, do you want me to keep calling you Loretta, or…?”

“I think I’ll leave that one up to you.” She said. “My friends mainly call me Lorikeet, but I’m sure I can make an exception if it pleases you.”

“Lorikeet?” The hair, the glasses, the coat. Right. “Oh, oh, I get it. Loretta, Lorikeet, yeah. You’re really one for the aesthetic, huh?”

“What’s the point of anything without a little presentation?” Lorikeet asked, drawing closer. “Now, I have a couple of questions for you, I’m sure you won’t mind, considering, well, you don’t really have a choice.”

Gray looked back down at the blood that was trickling down his shoulder, at the knife that had caused it.

“Well, I’m sure I’d be happy to answer anything you’d like, once you, uh, unpin me, so to spe-”

There was a knife at his throat.

“Uh uh, pretty boy, can’t have you pulling a runner on us, can we?” Lorikeet said, drawing the knife up, just underneath his jaw. He tilted his head up, minutely aware of how he’d whimpered before he could get a proper grip on himself again. 

“Pretty boy?” He wished he didn’t sound so hoarse.

She was close enough that he could almost see through her glasses. Almost. “Enough changing the subject, the sooner I get an answer out of you the sooner this’ll all be over. Now, why are you here?”

“Uh… clothing?”

Lorikeet pressed the knife further, he could feel how close his skin was to breaking point. 

“Oh, come on, pretty boy, don’t fuck with me. Why. Are. You. Here?”

“I really don’t know what I’m supposed to say!”

“Well, you could start by telling me who sent you here, because, and you’ll have to excuse my presumptiveness, you don’t seem like the type to figure this out all on your own.”

“What? No one sent me here, I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Oh? Not even, I don’t know, Carmen Sandiego?”

Had Gray not been fearing for his life, he would have taken a moment to be gratified in the fact that he was right. But he was fearing for his life, and all that was running through his brain right now was how he really should’ve listened to Zack and Amelia. 

Amelia… he had an idea. He’d found another way to play this. 

“Carmen Sandiego works alone.” He gasped. “I’ve never met her in my life, I didn’t even know she’d be here!”

“So you know who she is, and yet you’ve never met her… sure.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“The truth, pretty boy. Tell me who sent you and your little American friend here, and why.”

“I feel like the why is fairly obvious.” He said, pulling on the blades holding him to the wall. “Most shop owners don’t carry throwing knives. But I’m gonna guess that whole story was a lie as well.”

“Oh, no, I actually did design all those clothes. It’s a hobby of mine.”

“So I’m going to guess that little Roomba thing was yours as well. A voice modulator, right? How you lured me here?”

“This little beauty? All it needs is a sample sentence from the target and it can repeat any phrase, in any tone. It was all my design, though I had to get a friend to build it, I’m much better with the designing and coding than I am with actual building, but either way it’s my own tech, and she’s a sweet little thing, isn’t she?”

“So what’s she doing here, then? Why are you running a clothes store with tech like this?”   
  


“Well, I’d tell you… but I can’t! Anyway, I think it’s best that we stop stalling for time and you answer my questions.”

“I told you, I don’t work for Carmen Sandiego!”

“Oh, I know that, but that just raises the question; who  _ do _ you work for?”

“Nobody!”

“Nobody? Are you sure? You see, Carmen Sandiego doesn’t just announce her identity to whoever, she’s a lot more… secretive, than that, I’ve been told. So it’s funny that you, who ‘doesn’t work for anyone,’ happens to know enough about her to be able to tell me who she does or doesn’t work with. Luckily for you, however, I’m inclined to believe you, as far as I’m aware, Carmen Sandiego or any such associates, existent or not, wouldn’t blindly walk into the danger the way you did, so, congratulations, pretty boy, your stupidity just saved your life. But,” The knife was trailing up and down his neck absentmindedly as Lorikeet mused, “it’s like I said before, that raises another question, who  _ do _ you work for? See, I’ve got a working theory, I was wondering if you’d be so kind as to confirm it for me.”

“What is it?” It was getting harder and harder to keep her talking, he needed a way out of here, fast. But there was nothing, nobody could see him, he couldn’t call out to Zack without Lorikeet stifling him, and even then his voice would be lost to the hubbub of the street, to the footsteps and voices and the tinkling of a shop bell. Wait. The shop bell, which meant that either someone was entering, or that someone was leaving, and there was only one person that  _ could  _ be leaving. 

“You’re from that little agency, aren’t you, what was their name again? Ah, doesn’t matter, I’m terrible with names, anyway. You’re one of them, the ones with the needles and the drugs and all that. Apparently those needles are actually super useful, I’ve never had a chance to use one myself, after all we only stole one batch, of course they were only used for super important missions, faculty delegation only, but still, that’s you, isn’t it?”

He could tell she was only looking for confirmation, that he couldn’t fight this, couldn’t argue, not that he wanted to, with a strange looking knife to his throat, and Lorikeet was so close now he could feel the tough, thick fabric of her coat. His heart pounded, his shoulder ached, still bleeding, the blood had trickled down to the bottom of his jacket, and if he could’ve heard anything other than his pulse he imagined he would’ve heard it dripping onto the ground. But he had played his part so well, even through his fear, he couldn’t stop now. If he stopped now, he was as good as dead. He could see one way out of this, one way that didn’t end with his blood leaving his body, and it solely relied on what he said next.

“I won’t let you get away with this!” He cried, struggling again against the blades. Lorikeet’s face broke into a mad, gleeful smile.

“Ooh, pretty boy’s got guts! Whatcha gonna do, Sydneysider, beat me over the head with an overpriced goon bag!” She laughed, “Go on then, show me! You can’t do  _ shit _ !”

It was now or never. Gray made a small prayer to whoever was left to listen, and took a deep breath.

“Coo-ee!”

The last syllable snapped down the alley like a whip crack to the cold morning air. Lorikeet stared at him, finally silenced, but then she began to laugh again. 

“What was  _ that _ !” She said, through her laughter. “Is that really all you could do? Call your friend? That was a bad decision, mate,” She pulled a small remote like object from her coat with her free hand, and pressed a button. “The doors are locked, now, pretty boy. Your little friend’s not going anywhere, especially not for you, and  _ you _ ,” The knife pressed into his throat again, with the tiniest pinprick of pain, “Are going to tell me everything that I need to- Mmph!”

Lorikeet staggered to the side, and Gray didn’t have time to figure out what had hit her before he took action. He kneed her in the torso, the hand that wasn’t pinned at the wrist pulling the knife out of his still bleeding shoulder. Lorikeet was regaining her balance but he didn’t think, he blindly hit, catching her on the side of the face, and he pulled, kicking off the wall and the knives holding him fell away. He didn’t think about picking them up, he pushed Lorikeet aside and he tore down the alleyway. 

“What the hell was that!?” Zack demanded, but Gray didn’t slow down.

“I don’t have time to explain, she’s not down yet we have to run!”

Zack didn’t say anything, just took off after him. They wove through the crowds of people as quickly as they could, then took the wide turnoff about 10 metres down, flying down to the other end and taking a sharp left. Gray didn’t care about the attention they were drawing, all he wanted was to get as far away as possible before Lorikeet got back up, he wasn’t sure where they were going, only that they were moving, and they were moving away. He and Zack were thinking in sync with each other, if only by joint adrenaline irrelevant, they knew they had to get away, so they moved. And they didn’t stop until they were on an ignored side street, the pair of them breathing heavily.

“Ok, what the fuck just happened?” Zack asked, panting.

“Well, long story short, I was right. Long story, she lured me into an alleyway and held a knife to my throat.”

“Knife at your throat and you’re still high and mighty that you proved us wrong.”

“Oh, shut up, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“So who was she?”

“She called herself Lorikeet.”

“Lorikeet?”

“Like a rainbow lorikeet. They’re native, back home. It was why her hair was blue, it was part of the costume.”

“So she was the VILE agent, all along?  _ She’s _ the reason we’re here?”

“I don’t know. But she knew who Carmen was.” He said, catching his breath. “Oh, that reminds me.” He threw his hoodie, which he hadn’t thought to drop in his entire predicament, to Zack. “Put this on. She didn’t know me but if she knows Carmen, she might recognise you. Lorikeet knows Carmen’s here, but she doesn’t know we’re connected.”

“Few VILE agents ever have recognised me, but sure.” Zack put on the hoodie, and then gave him a strange look, like he was trying to figure something out. “Hey, Graham?”

“Mm?”

“Back there, did anything seem like you’d already seen it before?”

“What? No, why?”

“Ah, it’s nothing. Just a bad feeling, you know, it’s probably breakfast disagreeing with me.”

“Ok? Oh, uh, just call me Gray, from now on, it’s easier.”

Zack’s eyes widened. “What? Are you sure?”

“Fairly?”

“Oh, ok. Awesome. Gray. Nice.”

Gray looked around. “So, if Lorikeet was the operative Player picked up on, and the shop was the base…”

Zack nodded. “Then where is Carmen?” He finished. “You don’t think this was another trap, do you?”

“I don’t know, I don’t even know if she was a VILE agent.”

“Animal codename, weird costume, not picky with the knife sticky, that’s a VILE agent if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Picky with the knife sticky?”

Zack gestured to his shoulder.

“Oh, yeah. She pinned me with them.”

“How did you even get in that situation? You shouldn’t have left without me.”

Gray ran his hand through his hair. “I heard your voice.”

“Uh, what?”

“Lorikeet modulated your voice. She made it sound like you were in trouble, and I heard it, so I went into the alleyway, and, well.” He gestured vaguely. 

“Shit. She could do that?”

“Yeah, she was pretty proud of it.” He sighed. “Regardless, I just, I get a bit irrational when my friends are involved. I didn’t really think it through.”

“I think we all do. I’d do the same thing if it was Ivy or Carmen in trouble. Wait,” He looked at him, “does that mean we’re friends?”

“Yes? What kinda question is that?”

“So, you could say we’re…  _ mates _ ?”

Gray couldn’t help but laugh. 

“You are aware that we aren’t the only people who say ‘mate,’ right? Like, millions of other people also say ‘mate’.”

“Yeah, but you guys say it best! Like ‘g’day, mate!’ and ‘throw another shrimp on the barbie, mate!”

Gray figured that last part was a conversation for another time. He smiled.

“Alright. Sure, then. Mates?”

“Mates.” 

Zack looked around, “I don’t think she’s coming.”

“Yeah, let’s get back. I think we’re good.”

A blade that narrowly missed his ear swiftly proved him wrong.

“What the fu-”

“Run!”

And they were off again. “We had a headstart!” 

“That doesn’t seem to matter!” 

“How is she so fast?”

“Look up.”

Zack turned around to see Lorikeet jump from one rooftop to another, before falling out of sight. 

“Oh, come on! How can nobody see that!?”

“No time!” He grabbed his arm and pulled him along.

They didn’t stop again for another 10 minutes. Their movements were pointedly erratic this time, and when they stopped again, Gray didn’t even know how they’d gotten there. 

“So she can hardcore parkour.” Zack panted.

“She’s a tech genius… and she can hardcore parkour.” Gray replied, just as winded. “Are all VILE agents this well rounded?”

“There is no way that nobody can see her.”

“She’s a tech genius who can hardcore parkour, stealthily. Great!”

“So, what do we do now?”

“I don’t know? You’re better at dealing with this than I am!”

“No I’m not! I’m not good at giving orders or making decisions, that’s Carmen’s job!”

“Then call her! Call Player! I don’t care how much shit we get into as long as doesn’t involve knives being thrown at us!”

“I, uh, kinda gave my phone to Amelia.”

“What!? Why!?”

“In case Carmen called and I wasn’t there!”

“Zack, Carmen’s gonna be more suspicious if she calls you and Amelia picks up!”

Zack thought about it. “Shit, yeah!”

Gray was about to reply, when, coincidentally, his own phone began to vibrate. It was Amelia. Speak of the devil.

  
“Gray what’s going on?” Amelia demanded, breathless before he even had the chance to speak. 

“I don’t have a lot of time to explain, Lorikeet’s the VILE agent and she’s after-”

“Lorikeet?”

“That girl! The shop was a VILE base, she pointed a knife at me, get Carmen!”

“What shop, what’s going on, Gray where are you?” It sounded like she was moving, and fast. 

“Wait, where are you going?”

“I saw her, the girl - Lorikeet - I followed her. I thought you guys were in trouble!”

“What, no! Go ba-”

Zack grabbed his arm. 

“What!?” He demanded, turning to him.

It was Lorikeet. Coming back, knife poised to throw again. Shit.

“Amelia, I have to go just turn around and call Carmen!”

“No! Gray, tell me where you are!”

“She’s coming I have to go!”

“Graham I swear to god do  _ not ha- _

He didn’t get to hear the rest of that sentence. In his hurry and Zack’s grip on his arm, his phone got knocked out of his hand. He didn’t have a chance to pick it up. 

“Keep to crowded areas!” He told Zack, “She can’t exactly aim well in a crowd!”

“I don’t think that’s gonna stop her trying!”

“Still, less likely she hits one of us!”

It was starting to wear on him. He’d always held some pride in his stamina, but he was no marathon runner, and it was growing more and more difficult to maintain his speed. When they stopped again, there was a sharp ache in his jaw, and his legs were aching.

“How long do you think we have?” Gray asked.

Zack shook his head, hands on his knees.

“Every time we lose sight of her she just shows up again!”

Zack nodded.

Gray leant back against the wall, waiting for her inevitable return. He didn’t know what to do, every time he slowed down she was there. She was always there. Gray needed to think a way out of this, he was the only one who could and yet he didn’t have the answers. Why did it always fall apart the moment the going got tough? This was all he did, think his way into situations that he couldn’t think his way out of. He’d thought he’d been so smart when he’d first presented the robbery to Matt and Toby, and look how that turned out, every time he’d thought he’d outsmarted the world around him it always ended with him tearing himself apart. All he had going for him was a propensity for failing upwards. And now it felt like his luck had finally run out. 

But one minute passed, then two, and there was no sign of her. Even as the ache in Gray’s teeth finally faded, and Zack straightened up, she didn’t appear, and the slightest hints of hope were floating through him.

But then he saw her crest a building about down the street, just for a second before she disappeared. He didn’t even say anything, just grabbed Zack’s arm and led the way.

They ended up running through a wooden gate to what seemed to be a park. It was busy enough to keep Lorikeet from confronting them directly, but not enough to keep them safe from her knives.

“C’mon, where the trees are more dense. Less people she could hit by mistake.”

“Sure?”

“As I can be.” Zack said, unsure.   
  
It was quiet and lush when they finally stopped. They’d taken off the set path as much as they could, to the parts where the trees were thicker and older. The earth beneath his feet was tough and unword, covered in gnarled tree roots and logs. He could barely see the sky through the foliage, and he couldn’t really believe that this was the same place he had run through.

“I don’t know if she moves really fast or if she’s just really good at following us.” Zack panted. “To be fair, though, we’re not exactly hard to spot.”

“No, we’re not. But we keep losing her only for her to immediately find us again!”

“She does have the high ground.”

“But we run for ages and she never once loses track! It’s like I said, every time we shake her off we barely shake her off! No matter how many times we get away she always manages to find us!”

“Again, she could probably just see us through a crowd!”

“No! No, I don’t get it! It’s like she’s teasing us! The moment we think we’ve lost her she’s just around the corner! Why!?”

“I don’t know!”

Gray went to run his hands through his hair, but his hands fisted through it, clawing at it as his scalp prickled.

“I can’t! I can’t stop it! I can’t stop her!! I never can!”

He was yelling, even though he knew he shouldn’t, he didn’t know why he was saying it at all but the words just lined themselves up in his head and he let them out, stupidly, without thinking.

Zack didn’t look like he was remotely equipped to handle this situation. Which, Gray supposed, was fair. 

“Gray, we’ll figure it out. It’ll be fine.”

“How? We can’t outrun her! She always finds us!”

Zack’s face changed, and for a moment it looked like he was on the cusp of something.

“It’s like she’s got a tracker on us, or something.” He said, looking at him. 

They realised it at the exact time. Gray moved for the jacket, tearing it off, ready to take his foot to it as many times as necessary, anything to get them out.

But before he could, Zack was being held at knifepoint.

“Excellent work, guys!” Lorikeet said, gleefully. “I honestly thought for a second that you two were never going to figure it out, but you did! And you were kind enough to get yourselves alone as well! Hah! Do all you ACME people strive to make my job  _ that _ much easier, or is it just you two?”

Gray’s heart was in his throat. Zack’s eyes were wide, but he kept silent.

“Oh, good, you remembered the name.” He said, instead.

“I did! I’ll admit, it took me a while, but I got there in the end!”

“See what I mean?” Zack said, suddenly. “It’s not an easy name to remember! I mean, I know it sounds like ‘Acne,’ or whatever, but that doesn’t make it any easier! Honestly, I don’t care what you think, it needs to change. I was gonna ask the boss after the mission ended, but now I’m not sure if I should. I mean, we’re not exactly high rank, we’re basically ground crew! But I feel like it would be better if we established ourselves as people willing to take initiative, or else we’ll never climb the ladder, and I think if we walk in there with a new suggestion, we could really make sure they remember us. Anyway, how cool would it be if we were the ones who picked a new name for the entire agency? Come on, you think it’s cool! You do!”

Gray exhaled silently, thanking every god still available to thank that Zack had the self preservation of a seagull at a Subway.

“Oh, now this one’s talkative!” Lorikeet’s smile sharpened, bringing Gray back to the current, terrifying situation. “Maybe we’ll get somewhere with him! Or,” She shrugged with the hand that wasn’t holding the knife, “I could just slit his throat if you don’t spill the beans. Your call, Sydneysider.”

“Um, I’ll take the first option, I’d rather not have my throat slit, thanks.” 

“Ok, then. Who sent you here, and what for?” 

“Well,” Zack began, and Gray saw him looking around wildly, before meeting his gaze. “It all started back in the Sydney Opera House on a cold, cold July evening. I’d heard there was some shady stuff going on there, and I couldn’t just stand there and let shady stuff go down, no I knew I had to do something. So I snuck in there and-”

“I am sure that this a  _ compelling  _ story, but we’re a little bit stretched for time here, mate! Get on with it!” 

He could see Lorikeet’s patience starting to wear thin, even if he couldn’t see half of her face. Her glasses were slightly askew and her hair was mussed. Even though it wasn’t warm there was a thin sheen of sweat where her collar bone was exposed. He could see the faint cracks in her demeanor, and he longed to shatter it, to wear her away until there was nothing left but panic and dust. Oh, how he wanted to see her panic.

“Oh, I was just getting to the good part!” Zack replied. “So, skip along a bit, the dingoes have taken the French guy, I’m just trying to get away when I run into-”

“Did they hire you for being so annoying!?”

“Yes.” Gray said, almost smugly. “And he’s a natural at it.” 

Lorikeet glared at him, at least he thought she did, he couldn’t really tell through the glasses, but she let out a small, angry noise that was just as intimidating as her previous bravado. It filled him with such a rage that he didn’t care if Lorikeet was all the more terrifying when all the chips came down, he just wanted to be there when it happened. But he couldn’t show it, he wasn’t like her, he didn’t fall apart in front of the enemy. And he could prove that, right here, right now.

“I’m not playing around anymore, Sydneysider, I am  _ getting _ what I  _ came _ for.” She said, punctuating her sentence by pressing the blade to Zack’s neck.

“I never thought you were playing around. Tell me about the tracker.”

“Oh, those little things, I could just talk for hours abou- Stop fucking stalling, pretty boy.”

Gray and Zack looked at each other, and if Zack had a plan, he couldn’t yet communicate it. It seemed he had gotten what he wanted, Lorikeet was no longer the maniacal mastermind, now she was erratic, now she was close to a breaking point, and if it didn’t fill him with malignant satisfaction to say it, he’d suggest that she was panicking. But that panic meant a blade to his friend’s throat and nothing outweighed the fear that had gripped him the moment he heard Zack’s voice from the change room. He couldn’t lose another friend. It’d be the final nail in his coffin.

“Look, Lorikeet, we’ll talk, just put the knife down. Please.”

“Probably should’ve opened with that one, mate.” She replied, unmoving. Gray knew he had to up his game, and soon. 

“Ok, ok, maybe so, but right here? Right now? Murder’s not a good idea, here, Lorikeet, how would you get out of that situation? You already draw attention to yourself, leaving in broad daylight covered in blood isn’t an option, not for you.”

“I’ll figure it out, I always do!”

“Will you though? How? If you put down the knife then I’ll tell you everything you want to know, you don’t, and you make good on your threats, then you end up with a corpse and a myriad more questions that you won’t be able to answer. Lorikeet, please, the only way this ends well for you is if you let him go. So just, put down the-”

Zack drove his foot straight into the top of Lorikeet’s. She stumbled, thrown off balance, and Zack grabbed the blade at his neck and used it to leverage himself forward. Gray reached out to pull him back. Zack’s hand was bloody, but he held the knife fast. They had leverage, now. 

That was until Lorikeet, glasses half off and control officially lost, simply reached into her coat and pulled out three more. 

“Do you wanna fucking try it?!” She screeched, advancing on them. Zack held the knife in front of him, but that didn’t stop her. 

The rock that hit her in the back of the head did, though.

“Take that, you knock-off Gorillaz bitch!”

Gray couldn’t help the relieved laugh that burst out of him at the sound of Amelia’s voice. 

Lorikeet whipped around. 

“Knock-off!?” It came out like a furious squawk, and Gray could see that she was bleeding, blue hair becoming caked in red. Lorikeet zoned in on Amelia’s distant form, and Gray tried to grab her, tried to stop her, but Zack, knife discarded and branch held, caught her from behind with a blow straight to the head.

The thump of her hitting the ground wouldn’t have been as loud as it was had it been anyone else. Zack and Amelia stared at each other, silent, unsure, before Zack knelt down, and rolled Lorikeet over. 

“She’s knocked out.”

“Make sure she isn’t faking it.” Amelia told him. 

Zack slapped her across the face. “Yeah, she’s down.” He announced.

The relief kicked in so suddenly his legs couldn’t hold him up. He fell to his knees, laughing breathlessly. 

“You have no clue how happy I am to see you right now.” Zack told Amelia.

“I’ve always wanted to be the deus ex machina.” She said, grinning. “Are you alright?”   
  
“Well, my hand got a bit sliced up, but I’m fine.” He said, brandishing it.

“Shit. That looks nasty. Here.” Amelia unwound her scarf and tied it around Zack’s hand. “Use that until we can get a proper bandage on it.”

She turned to Gray, and started. “Holy fuck, Gray!”

“What?”

“Your shoulder!” She said, hurrying towards him. Gray looked down to see that the blood had left a stain nearly halfway down his shirt. He’d forgotten about the cut, so caught up with the adrenaline of trying not to get killed, but now it was throbbing painfully again.

“Lorikeet threw a knife at me. Many knives, actually, but I’m fine.”

Amelia looked over to her. “So that’s Lorikeet?”

“Uh huh.”

“Oh, I get it, like the-”

“Like the bird, yeah.”

“She’s the VILE agent, then?”

“Yes. She was the one with the base. She attacked us because she thought we were onto her.”

“Huh. That reminds me.” Amelia turned to him, “What the fuck were you thinking! You could’ve been killed, you could’ve put the entire mission at risk!”

“I am well aware of that now.” He sighed. Amelia glared at him, then knelt down to pull his shirt away from the cut, the sticky fabric pulling at the cut. He flinched as Amelia’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Is it bad?” He asked. The cut didn’t feel that deep, but it didn’t feel anything but painful at that point, so he couldn’t tell.

“I don’t know, we need to clean it up.”

“We should get going before someone comes.” Zack said.

“You’re right.” Amelia replied, standing back up. “But what should we do about her?” She turned towards Lorikeet.

“Leave her. There’s nothing we can do for her now.” Zack told them.

“But what if she’s seriously hurt?”

“Then I’ll celebrate.”

“Gray!”

“She tried to kill Zack!”

“That doesn’t mean we should just let her die!”

“Guys, we have bigger fish to fry right now!” Zack interrupted. “There’s no way we can get help for her without drawing attention to ourselves, by my guess she’ll wake up in an hour or two with a bad headache. She’ll be fine, but we need to go.”

Amelia looked conflicted, but nodded anyway. She offered a hand to help Gray up, but he didn’t take it.

“Zack, can you pass me the knife?”

“Sure?”

Amelia looked between them, confused, as Zack handed Gray the knife, and he pulled the now crumpled and dirt stained jacket toward him.

“What are you doing?” She asked, but he didn’t respond, feeling around the front lapel, searching. Finally, he found it, that strange little bump, poised the knife just beside it, and cut.

“Uh, Gray?” It was Zack this time, but again, he ignored them. He angled the knife, down halfway through the material, and lifted, allowing just enough room for him to reach in. 

“Bingo.” He muttered, when the device finally came free, and he held it up to them.

“This,” He said, “Was embedded in the fabric of a jacket I bought from Lorikeet’s shop.

“We can see that.” Amelia said, nonplussed. “Exactly what is it?”

“What Lorikeet was tracking us with.”

Her eyes widened. “She was tracking you?”

“Yeah. That’s how she kept finding us so quickly.” Zack said.

“And this came directly off the rack, I saw her get it and give to me, she didn’t have a chance to tamper with it at all, this was in there before I even came into the shop.”

“What does that mean? Why would there be a tracker in a jacket?” 

“I have a theory.”

“Whatever that theory is, it can wait.” Zack said, “We need to go.”

Gray nodded, and got up, leaving Lorikeet lying there, her glasses a metre or so away.

But on reflection, he picked up the jacket. It would be a good addition to his collection, regardless.

***

“Well, I’ve patched it up as best I could, but it’s pretty deep.” Amelia said, sticking the large patch onto Gray’s shoulder. 

“Is it gonna need stitches?” He asked, because stitches meant a needle, a needle going into his skin, a needle going into his skin multiple times and the thought of it made him feel light headed. 

“I don’t know.” Amelia told him. “We’ll have to ask Carmen when we get back, she’ll know.”

“Woah, we are  _ not _ doing that, we are pretending that this incident never happened and not telling Carmen anything.”

“Dude, we have to!” Zack told him. 

“I thought you were the one saying that we had to keep it quiet!”

“That was before I found out Lorikeet was a VILE agent selling trackers in her clothes!”

“Look, if Lorikeet was the VILE agent and the shop was the base we came here for, then that means either Carmen got it wrong or Carmen’s fallen into a trap.” Amelia said. “And I  _ really _ don’t think it’s the former. We need to tell her. Now.”

“Ok, ok. Fine. But we don’t have to tell her everything.”

“What, that you ignored her order and followed Lorikeet despite that being the  _ one thing  _ she told you not to do?”

“Exactly, Amelia. Now, let me talk to Player. I’ll figure it out.”

Amelia rolled her eyes, and passed him the phone.

“I really do  _ not  _ think that’s a good idea.” Zack told him, “Second rule of ground crew: Don’t lie to Carmen.”

“I’m not lying to Carmen, I’m lying to Player.”

“Yeah, there’s not a lot of difference there.”

“Hey, it’s your ass on the line as much as mine if we get busted here.”

“I know that…” Zack bit his lip. Gray gave him an encouraging smile.

“Come on, mate, it’s the same result either way. What’s bending the rules gonna do?”

“I dunno, we shouldn’t...”

“Trust me, here, if there’s anything I can do well, it’s lie.”

“That’s not a good thing.” Amelia piped up. Zack was still uneasy.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, and Zack didn’t respond for a long moment. 

“Yes!” He burst out, eventually. Gray smiled. 

“Then let me handle this.” 

He called him.

“What’s up, Zack?” Player asked.

“Oh, it’s Graham.”

“Oh, hey Graham. What’s happening?”

“Uh, we figured we should call you, we just heard something a bit weird, nothing big, but Zack said we should tell you, just in case.”

“What is it?”

“Well, there was this girl who kept bringing up this shop on Takeshita street, and…”

Zack began tapping furiously on his shoulder, Gray looked around as Zack began scribbling furiously onto a napkin.

“And…?” Player asked, as Zack turned the napkin around to show him. 

“Something about… paper star?” Gray gave Zack a confused look, but he just nodded. “Yeah… I don’t really know what that means, but she kept talking about it-”

“Where’s Zack?” Player asked. “Put him on.”

“Oh, he’s right here, just lemme…” Gray handed the headphones to Zack, who stared at him, wide eyed, before slipping the headphones in.

“Yeah, yeah, Paper Star. The girl kept talking about her.”

He paused.

“She had blue hair. Red glasses. About Gray’s height.”

Zack paused again, and leaned over to him.

“How tall are you?”

“180.”

“About five-nine.” Zack said into the phone. Amelia flicked Gray on his good arm.

“Stop using centimetres just to be a dick.” She told him. 

“Fine.”

“Why do you do that, by the way?” Amelia asked. “The little shtick you have going on.”

“What shtick?”

“Carmen’s already back at the hotel. We can go now.” Zack cut in.

“Did Player believe you?”

“I think so.” 

Gray turned to Amelia.

“See, how easy was that?”

Amelia glared at him again. “Fine. We keep it quiet. But if you guys go down, I’m not going down with you.”

Gray had a sneaking suspicion that she didn’t entirely mean that. 

***

It was midday when they finally got back to the hotel. It was upscale, incredibly so, with sleek, pale white floors and soft pink lighting. The elevator shafts were completely clear, as were the elevators themselves, sans the base. It was easy to forget the fact that it was still daytime, with the lack of windows in the lobby, making it feel like something out of a sci-fi film. Gray looked around at the blue-grey couches that probably cost a year of his (now non-existent) salary, and nudged Zack. 

“How much did this place cost?” 

“I’ve learnt not to ask.” Zack told him.

Amelia was too busy taking it all in to say anything. 

Carmen was waiting for them. Her hair was back up in its bun again, she looked remarkably calm for someone who had just committed criminal espionage. She looked up, her face simultaneously washed out and highlighted by the light, and smiled when she saw them. Then her eyebrows furrowed.

“Hey.” 

“Hey.” She said, standing up. “Where the hell have you been?”

They all looked at each other, unsure what to say, and it was at that moment when Gray realised that a) Zack was wearing Gray’s hoodie, b) Gray was wearing a jacket that he absolutely hadn’t been wearing when Carmen had last seen him, and, most importantly, c) That jacket was covered with dirt and blood 

The stares he’d been getting were starting to make a lot of sense, now. Carmen folded her arms as none of them responded.

d) He was fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: This is the only chapter in which the time that it was written matched the time that it was set in! The past chapters were always set at least 1 month in the future. Just thought it was pretty cool!


	28. Gray, Sidelined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gray gets himself into a bad situation, and cuts are assessed. Carmen is happy with absolutely none of it.

The elevator ride up to the room was one of the most awkward elevator rides that Gray had ever experienced. Not that he’d had many particularly awkward elevator rides, but this one set the bar, and it set the bar high. It was completely silent. He looked over at Amelia, but she was looking straight ahead, and pointedly not at him. Just as a reminder of how royally fucked he was. Honestly, it was lucky nobody was in the elevator with them, because the atmosphere was  _ that _ tense. 

Ivy and Shadowsan were waiting for them when they got back to the very large, very expensive room, which was one of two, in a move that was more of a flex than anything Gray had in his life (and he’d grown up in Sydney, that was a feat). It was like seeing Toby’s childhood home for the first time all over again, (of course, Toby’s old house was way more impressive, but there were not a lot of things more impressive than Toby’s old house.)

“Heya!” Ivy said, “How was it?”

“That’s what I want to know.” Carmen turned around to look at the three of them. “Considering that they went wandering off.”

“What?!” Ivy turned to Zack “The _one_ _thing_ you were supposed to do was keep him from leaving! It was literally the only job you had! How the hell did you manage to fuck it up?”

“Hey, it wasn’t his fault.” Gray cut in, “Zack tried to stop me, I ignored him. He only came with me because he didn’t want me to get killed.”

“It was lucky you didn’t!” Carmen snapped. “What would’ve happened if you’d run into a VILE operative?”

“Well, uh... about that…” Amelia started, “We kinda did. At least, Gray and Zack did.”

Gray really needed to talk to her about saying the right things at the right time. He prepared himself for a verbal beating from everyone in the room, but Carmen’s eyes actually went wide, and she looked terrified, not furious. It took him aback. Ivy looked at her, then back to Zack, mouth open. 

“What?”

“We’d never seen her before.” Zack cut in. “She didn’t know us.”

“You sure?”

“She had no clue who we were.”

“Why does it matter? It wasn’t a big deal.” Gray asked. “We got away just fine.” 

“Is that what happened to your shoulder?” Shadowsan asked. 

“Well, yes, but it’s fine! I’m fine. It was just a small nick.”

“How did you get it, then?”

Gray didn’t know a way to phrase his answer that wouldn’t worsen the situation.

“She threw a knife at me.” He said, eventually settling.

It worsened the situation. 

“What!?”

“A knife!?”

“Look, I’m fine!” He said, trying to quell the concern. “It’s not even that deep.”

“It’s pretty deep.” Amelia said. “He might need stitches, I don’t know.”

Gray turned and glared at her.

“Sit down, let me look at it.” Carmen said. She wasn’t one to be argued with, especially not now. He sighed, sat down on the couch, yanking his jacket off and pulling the collar of his shirt away for his shoulder. If he was going to do it, he wasn’t going to be happy about doing it. 

He felt Carmen’s fingers trace over the patch, before pulling it off. He flinched at the pain. Carmen wiped some of the blood away. 

“It’s still bleeding.” She said.

“I held a cloth to it for ages, but it didn’t stop.” Amelia said, “I had to just stick a band-aid on it and leave it at that. It’s calmed down a bit, though.”

“Shadowsan, thoughts?”

Gray was really starting to feel like he was under a microscope, now.

“If it is still bleeding, stitches would be best.”

“I’m telling you, I’m fine!”

“He’s scared of having to get them.”

“Amelia!”

“I also think,” Shadowsan continued, “That you do not get a cut like this from having a knife thrown at you.”

Carmen looked at him. “Graham?”

“She threw a knife at me, that’s true. She just... also pinned me to the wall with it in the process.”

Shadowsan pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Lorikeet, right?” Carmen asked him.

“You know her?”

“Trust me, I’ve met a  _ lot _ of VILE agents in my time. She’s losing her touch if she just wanted to pin you. Her knife throwing was one of the few things she prided herself in.”

“She missed every time.” Zack said from where he was sitting with Ivy.

“Again, one of the few. She was always more tech inclined.” Carmen said. “And she has awesome shoes. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you about them, she’d tell anyone who’d listen, normally- wait. Other times!?” 

Zack swore under his breath.

“Ok, you are telling me exactly what happened.” Carmen said, sitting down. Amelia joined her. 

“It’s like I said before, not that big of a deal! I saw Lorikeet, I thought she was suspicious, I followed her. Zack tried to talk me out of it, he failed. So he came along. We followed Lorikeet into a shop in Takeshita street,  _ she _ got suspicious, the wall pinning happened, I got away, she followed us around for a bit, caught up to us, Amelia pulled a god-tier save, so props to her, and Zack knocked her out with a tree branch. Again, it was really nothing big!”

Carmen was giving him a look. He couldn’t describe it, but he could understand the exact emotion behind it, and he knew exactly what she was going to say next.

“Graham, that is a big deal! That is absolutely a big deal!” And he was proven right. “That completely changes the context of why we’re here! How could you not tell us that Lorikeet was the operative!”

“We did! We told Player! I just, told him a slightly different version than what happened!”

“Yeah, I don’t appreciate being lied to.” The laptop told him.

“It was the same result either way!”

Carmen sighed. “That’s not the point, Graham, had you told us from the get go then I wouldn’t have had to waste an entire day getting chased down by Paper Star.”

“Paper Star was here?” Zack asked.

“Who’s Paper Star?”   
  


“I’ll tell you later. Now I have to go figure out what Lorikeet was up to.”

“I think I already know.” Gray pulled out the tracker and held it up to her. “I bought this jacket from her shop. Well, stole it, technically. Anyway, this was inside the fabric.”

“What is it?”

“A tracker.”

“Did you deactivate it?” Shadowsan asked.

“Obviously. But, that’s not the point. If this was in one jacket, there’s a possibility that there’s one in every single item in that shop. People buy the items and Lorikeet uses this to track them.”

Carmen shook her head. “VILE wouldn’t just track people for no reason, they always have a goal in mind.”

“Yes, but they can also take out security systems.” Gray told her.

She looked at it, surprised. “How?”

“It’s an RFID tag, and it’s also got an antenna on it.”

“Meaning it can pick up other signals, right?” Player asked, starting to piece it together.

“Exactly. And RFID signals are in everything. If it picks up a signal from, say, an employee ID card, it could transfer it back to the receiver, by extension Lorikeet, by extension VILE. They can clone the information from the card, and bingo, they have their way in.”

“But why put them in clothes?” Ivy asked. “Why not use them themselves?”

“What if they could have a greater reach, that way?” Amelia asked. “I mean normally, they’d just have to get an agent to do it, which would mean one would have to be deployed to pick up the signal in each place they’d potentially want to rob, right? And even then, they’d have to get close enough to someone with an ID card to pick up the signal. A lot of work, and a lot of risk, for a small result. However, if it was stuck on unassuming and unaware people who just happened to go to those places and pick up those signals, suddenly VILE has stacks of information just waiting for them to use.”

“They’d only get a few years of information out of it, though.” Gray told her. “It’s not like they can replace the battery.”

“Well, yeah, but if they stuck it on a target…” Player piped up, “As in, a specific person who they know would be able to pick up the signals, it wouldn’t matter how long it took. They’d be able to get the info from a safe distance.”

“Meaning they could draw less suspicion to themselves.” Carmen finished. 

“But the shop doesn’t make sense.” Ivy said. “They’re relying on the off chance that someone who goes nearby a target just happens to wander in and buy something.”

“VILE would never normally be that inefficient.” Carmen replied.

“What if it was an experiment?” Amelia asked. “What if it was just to test out how well the trackers worked?”

“If it’s an experiment, then they’d need a testing ground. Player, check potential targets.”

“Uh, Red, the world’s kind of in a global pandemic. There’s not a lot of places that fit the criteria anymore.” 

“Oh. Right. Yeah. Well, we do the next best thing. All that infos gotta go somewhere, right? We destroy that somewhere, she’s got no access.”

“But all it’ll take for Lorikeet to get back online is another receiver.” Gray said.

“VILE wouldn’t take that chance. More likely than not it’s got some encryption beyond anything you’ve seen.”

“It’s still just radio waves, though.”

“Well, if we can’t completely stop her, we can hold her back as much as we can. Let’s destroy the shop.”

“Ok, and?” Gray asked her. “How would that work? How would we even pull that off?”

Carmen looked him in the eye, suddenly cold. 

“No ‘we,’ Graham. You’re off this mission.”

“What?!” He burst out, but Carmen didn’t flinch.

“You can’t be trusted to follow orders.” She told him, simply.

“Are you kidding me?! If I’d just sat back and waited for you, we would’ve been following a completely false lead! It probably would’ve ended up being a trap!”

“I recognise that,” Carmen said, taking a deep breath, “but how can I now know you won’t go off on your own and screw everything up for us?”

“Because I’m not just some bad dog that needs to be told to heel!”

“Really? Because you haven’t shown that.”

“Who cares whether I’ve shown it or not! I had a hunch, I followed it, I was right! I don’t see the issue with that!”

“Well I do! You need to learn self control!” Carmen’s voice was starting to rise. 

“You aren’t my mother! Carmen, I am older than you!”

“Yes, but I’m team leader. It’s my decision who comes on the missions, and my decision is final.”

Gray seethed, and maybe it was just another event in a day of emotions continually running high that tipped him over the edge, that tipped him into that dangerous territory. But, still, he tipped over that edge and kept running. 

“Really?” He demanded, rising to his feet, “Leader? That’s funny, cause I thought that a leader was someone who kept their promises! I don’t know, just my general definition. But, uh, I’m looking around, and I don’t exactly see my friends here, y’know, the people you  _ promised _ me you’d find, nor have I seen  _ any _ sort of attempt to do so! So, yeah, what a great leader you-”

“Ok, ok, stop!” Amelia cried, stepping between the two of them, “Gray, I know for a fact you don’t want to finish that sentence. You need to back off before you say something you regret. Take a moment in the room next door, ok?”

“Don’t tell me what I-”

She grabbed his hand, pressing the room key into it. He was so, so desperately ready for another fight, and he could have easily continued until he was satisfied with the destruction, but there was that fierce determination in Amelia’s eyes, and he knew that she was right. He had to give in.

Didn’t stop him from enjoying the slam of the door behind him, even if it did fill him with guilt a moment later. 

***

Gray didn’t sleep. He couldn’t. He stared at the ceiling for hours, completely listless, trying to will himself to sleep against his better judgement. But it was no use, all it did was allow him to see how many times he could adjust his sleeping position without any result. There was nothing to distract himself with, either, his phone was long gone, and Zack and Shadowsan were asleep, not that he had spoken to or seen them since he’d left the other room. He wasn’t in the mood for a lecture.

And so, time moved on, until it eventually got to the point that he knew he needed some air (it would at least give him something better to do than memorise the rhythmic patterns of Zack’s snoring). He crept out of his bed and through the main room, opened the sliding door as quietly as he could, and stepped onto the hotel balcony, onto tile that was bitterly cold against his bare feet. It had begun to rain some time ago, and looking out at the Tokyo skyline, he was reminded just how far away he was from home. He could imagine it like an art installation, as fairy lights against a gallery floor, the way each wire connected and diverged from each other, the way each light connected. This was nothing like Sydney. He was long gone. 

Gray leant on the banister, hands wet from the slippery metal and the occasional raindrop landing on his head. He looked down at the street below, and he suddenly pictured it, sliding over the railing, a simple loss of control, an inch too far, too far for physics to protect him, and then he was tumbling, tumbling down to a final, sudden, and violent stop on the cement below. It was almost real, he could feel the drop of his stomach as it happened. He backed away.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“Fuck!” He nearly jumped out of his skin. Carmen laughed at him, and put her finger to her lips. 

“Right, sorry. You scared the shit out of me.” He said, looking over to Carmen, Carmen in pyjamas, Carmen on the balcony next door, Carmen smiling at him despite the mess the past day had been.

“I figured.”

Gray paused. He didn’t know how to continue the conversation. 

“It’s pretty.” Was what he settled on, referring to the city.

“It is.” She looked out for a moment, then back to him. “We should talk about it.”

“I’m sor-”

“Why can you never handle not being the sole authority in your life?”

The question caught him completely off guard. It reminded him again of just how piercing she could be, why she seemed so ethereal in his mind, because people don’t just ask those questions of him, not in that way, nobody could ever be in a position to. And yet there was Carmen, the stranger who seemed to know all the right pressure points, and he didn’t know how to answer her. 

(It didn’t escape his mind, just as it didn’t when it first came up, that she may’ve been lying when she said she’d never met him).

He’d like to say he understood her perfectly, that he had the perfect answer ready to challenge her with. He’d like to say that he knew why she affected him the way she did, but to so much as even ask those questions would force him into a sacrifice that he wasn’t willing to make. So he didn’t say anything.

“You only listen to other people when you agree with them.” Carmen continued. “The moment you think you could do it better you turn your back on them and start running your own show. I can’t keep working with you if you’re going to keep overriding me the moment we disagree.”

“I wasn’t overriding you, not intentionally.”

“Graham, I specifically told you not to leave Omotesando, and you left Omatesando.”

“But I had good reason to! I knew that something was up when I saw Lorikeet, and I was right! She  _ was _ up to something, and now the only reason we know what VILE’s actually doing here is because I figured it out! I am failing to see why this is such a problem.”

“But that’s the point. You  _ don’t  _ see it as a problem. You respected me as a leader until it wasn’t convenient for you, and then you didn’t.”

“It had nothing to do with whether I respect you or not, trust me, I respect you. All it was was that I knew I wouldn’t let it go if I didn’t investigate.”

“Really? Because you said some things back there that kinda suggested you didn’t.”

Gray cringed, but took the moment to thank Amelia’s infinite wisdom for cutting him off. 

“I didn’t mean it, I was angry. I shouldn’t have lost control like that.” He mumbled,eventually.

“Are you sure?” Carmen’s voice was decidedly gentle, like a preschool teacher trying to weedle out the truth. “Because you seemed pretty insistent. Or you did, before Amelia stopped you.”

“She was right. I didn’t actually mean what I said. Or was going to say. I’m sorry that it looked like I was questioning your capabilities, I wasn’t. I lost my temper when I shouldn’t have.” 

“You’ll always lose your temper when your friends are involved.” Carmen said, quietly. Gray turned to her, but she wasn’t looking at him.

“Will I?”

“I mean, back at the apartment, earlier today…”

“Oh, shit, yeah.” He didn’t realise until now that Carmen hadn’t seen anything different. She’d barely known the version of him who didn’t have a vendetta. “I guess I do.” 

“You must really care about them.” Carmen said, softly.

“It’s the same way you care about Zack and Ivy, isn’t it? You’d do anything for them.”

Carmen nodded.

“Tell me about them.” She said, after a brief pause. 

“What?”

“Your friends. What were they like?” 

“You really wanna know?”

“Of course.”

Gray leant against the railing, unsure where to begin, unsure how to put two entire people into words. And how to put them into words that could make her see what he saw in them?

“Matt and I had a fight before she disappeared.” Was probably not the best way to open it, but it’s the way Gray chose, so he supposed he had to stick with it. “It’s something so inconsequential now, but she didn’t back down, she never backed down. She was always so stubborn, the last person you wanted on your bad side, she’d claw at you until her hands were bloody. But it suited her, it really did, she was one of those people whose flaws complemented her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s still mad about it, actually. Assuming she’s still alive, of course.”

“She is, we’ll find her.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” He sighed. “Amelia told me not to give up on the fact that they might be alive,  _ everybody _ tells me not to give up on the fact that they might be alive, but it’s hard, you know? You just have to keep holding on to the hope that you can save them, but you’ll always wonder if it’s all for nothing. If they’re completely gone, and you’re just deluding yourself to avoid having to face the fact that you’ve lost them forever.”

“I know.” There was something distant in her voice. “And sometimes the knowledge that they’re alive is even worse. That they’re alive, but they’re worlds away from you, and you never know, even if you see them again, you never know if you can possibly bridge that gap anymore. They’re just out of reach, but you can’t help but grasp at them. And even if you know they’ve been through something that you will never be able to understand, that the two of you are so far apart now nothing can fix it, you still keep hoping. You just have to keep hoping.”

“How, though? I’m scared that they’re dead, I’m scared that they’re alive. I can’t think about them without it hurting, and that just hurts more because suddenly every memory I have of them is tainted, but what if that’s the last thing I have left of them? What am I supposed to do with that?”

“You just, you try to remember them as you experienced them. You remember and you try to ignore how it all ended up.”

“Does it work?”

“Sometimes. But all it takes is for reality to come crashing in. 

Gray didn’t know what to say.

“Tell me more about them.” 

The corners of his lips quirked at the thought of them.

“Matt, she never really had a sense for social niceties. Or, well, she did, but she just didn’t care half the time. When I first met her, she wouldn’t stop making amnesia jokes. Toby was horrified, he’d really wanted us to get along, but it was nice, actually. For once people weren’t looking at me like I had some kind of terminal cancer, I didn’t realise how much I actually needed someone to just be chill about the whole thing. I wonder if she knew that, sometimes if she did it on purpose, but I never really knew what was going in her head, she was quite closed off, actually.”

“And Toby? What about him?”

“I know Toby like the back of my hand. I mean, he was always easy to know. Wore his heart on his sleeve, and all that. Or maybe that was just me, I don’t know. He was two years below me, but we were in the same ballet class.”

“You did ballet?”

“A while back. It’s not something I mentioned to a lot of people. Anyway, Toby was always on edge, always thinking everything through to an insane degree, always coming up with the worst ‘what-ifs’ he could. But it was understandable, his family was, well, complicated, I won’t get into it, I don’t know how I was the only one who picked up that something was wrong, but, anyway. He was strange, he was more mature than people double his age, yet at the same time completely clueless. He was brilliant, he never saw it, but he was. Being friends with him was easy, disarming, in a way. But then I graduated and we drew apart.

“Why?”

“It was just natural, really. He had a life outside of me, I figured I’d let him get on with it. Though, apparently I sold him my car. I don’t remember it. Anyway, I didn’t see him again until I got back, and then, suddenly, he was completely different. Taller, collected, confident. He’d grown up, I guess. And we were just friends again.”

“Just like that?”

  
“I told you. Easy. And Toby always had faith in me. Always trusted me. Even when he knew better, when I should’ve known better” He felt his voice waver slightly, but kept going, “There were times when it ended up really hurting him. But he never wavered, even when he should have, and I knew that, but I’d never stop. I wish I could tell him I was sorry.”

Gray looked back over the railing, and the same, swooping feeling came over him.   
  


“It’s just, when I lost my memory, I suddenly had a three year gap in which anything could have happened. Nobody seems to know where I was, what I was doing, any of it. But people had an advantage over me, they had control, and one thing I’ve learnt in my life is that I can’t let them have that. So I have to trust myself over everything. And sometimes that means that I put other people at risk for it. It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make, but it ends up hurting the people I care about, it ends up hurting me. But I can’t stop it because I know, that when it  _ absolutely _ comes down to it, I’m the only person I can completely trust, and I can’t risk losing that.” 

He didn’t mean to divulge that much, because saying things like what he’d just said just raises questions on his mental wellbeing that he can’t brush off easily. And Carmen’s silent, a silence that pointedly and poignantly tells him he’s said too much, and he can’t go back now.

“Graham…” She said, eventually, and Gray knows exactly what she’s going to say next. “Are you alright?”

“Honestly?” He asked her, looking over at her. The rain had picked up, starting to turn into a proper downpour. She nodded, and there was genuine concern in her eyes. 

“My shoulder really fucking hurts.”

Carmen raised her eyebrow at him. “I genuinely think you need stitches.”

“Nah, I’ll be right.”

“You’re just saying that cause you’re scared of needles.”

Gray felt the heat rise to his face. Well, rise would imply there was some gradual increase, rather than what felt like every drop of blood suddenly appearing in his cheeks, which was closer to the truth.

“How did you know that?” He was going to deny it, but he couldn’t, he’d lied to Carmen enough. 

She laughed. “You pale every time someone brings it up.”

Shit. He thought he’d trained himself out of that.

“Yeah, ok.” He sighed. “I don’t like needles.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know about you, but the thought of having a sharp object plunged into my flesh isn’t the most appealing to me.”

“Yeah, but nobody likes needles. You look like you’re being sent to your death.”

“Do I?” Again, he’d thought he was past this, he’d had to get his needles in high school, he’d had to train that sort of reaction out, there were some things that you could never show in high school (or in Gray’s case, ever), not if you wanted to survive. And Gray could never be that irrational, at least, not back then. “I’ve never liked them. I don’t really know why. And it’s just needles. Nothing else.”

“But if that cut gets infected, Graham...”

“I know, I know, I should suck it up and get it over with.”

“Well, we could go right now.” Carmen suggested. “I mean, I speak Japanese, and I’m sure we can think up some sort of explanation.”

Gray nodded, still not wanting to agree with her, but knowing he had to, regardless. 

“That way we can go without the others finding out.” She said, and there was the slightest lilt of knowing in her voice. “I’ll be the only one who has to see if it  _ affects _ you.”

He wondered if he was always this easy to read, or if it was just Carmen. He looked at his shoulder, at the gaping mess that was the cut, and back to her. 

“That thought still isn’t comforting.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Fine. Let’s do it.”

She smiled, turning to face him. “Stand back.”

“What? Why?”

Carmen vaulted the balconies. Literally jumped from one balcony to another. And landed gracefully in front of him. 

“Oh, shit! Ok, uh… that was really fucking cool.” He found himself babbling. “But, uh, we could’ve met outside the hotel room.” He pointed back into the hotel room, where the door was in sight. 

“Oh.” Her gaze followed followed his hand. “Yeah, actually. You’re right.”

Gray raised an eyebrow. “Did you just do that to show off?”

Carmen paused. 

“Maybe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I actually kind of like this chapter, which is surprising.


	29. The Devices in Decora Caper, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gray stays behind, Player has a question for him. Far too many projectiles are thrown onto open roads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok guys so bad news... my laptop charger broke, and the replacement won't be able to get here until next week. Luckily for me, I'd had the new chapter already written, unluckily for me, it's a first draft, so it's not very good. But I'm on my mum's laptop at the moment and I don't know when I'll be able to use it again so you guys can get what I had. Also we may have to skip a week with the next chapter, I don't know.

“Graham, can you hear us?”

“Loud and clear, Carmen.”

He leant back against the couch’s armrest, watching the last dregs of sunset fade away. It was dark, not enough to warrant a light, but enough that things were getting slightly more difficult to see, and there was a noticeable drop in the temperature. The clouds were pale pink and laid out flat against the greying blue of the sky, like sand patterns reaching towards what sunlight was still left. All he could see of the buildings were black silhouettes, at least until the lights in the windows began to turn on. As the clouds moved the pink grew brighter and more pronounced, almost neon, before slowly retreating. 

He stretched out, pushing his leg against the couch cushion, feeling the rough fabric through his sock as his foot slowly slid down until it was against the other end. The armrest pressed into his neck, but he didn’t care. Gray watched the twilight slowly recede from the city. Somewhere out there, Amelia, Zack, and Ivy were waiting in a van on a mission that he was supposed to be on, but he was stuck in exile. But he was still on the direct line with them, and there was a laptop open on the coffee table for Player, and he supposed it was as good as he could get it, given the circumstances.

“Earth to Graham.” 

“Oh. Right.” He tuned himself back in. “You were saying something?”

Carmen sighed. “I was asking if you remembered the plan.”

“Of course. How could I forget?”

“So what’s your role here?”

“I’m on support. You guys need me to guide you around handling those trackers.”

“Exactly. We can’t risk something going wrong with them. Once we get the items out, you need to help us disable the trackers as quickly as possible.”

“Remind me again why we don’t just blow the shop to smithereens?”

“Because there’s a chance that someone could get hurt.”

“And that somebody would most probably be Lorikeet, in which case-”

“In which case, we don’t do that here.” Carmen cut in, sharply. “It wouldn’t make us any better than them.”

“And? They’re the ones who’ve kidnapped two of my friends and held a knife to another.”

“ _ And _ , we are not having this conversation again.”

“Fine.”

“Anyway, once she finds out what we’ve done to her stock, I think that’ll be enough vengeance.” There was a certain evil lilt to Carmen’s voice that piqued his interest.

“Is it really that important to her?”

“The only thing Lorikeet likes more than her tech is her clothes. It’ll crush her to see them gone.”

“Petty. Let’s do it.”

Matt would’ve adored it. 

***

There was a surprising amount of the waiting game in the works of Carmen Sandiego. For the people in the van, it was an old fashioned stakeout. For Gray in the hotel room, it was sitting in a hotel room with a Player-inhabited laptop. Player, who was still a bit miffed about the fact that Gray had lied to him. 

“So… you’re still kinda mad, huh?”

“It was kinda a dick move, Graham.”

“Woah, woah, does Carmen know you’re using language like that?”

“I’m nearly 15 years old, I’m not a  _ child _ .”

“Spoken like a true angsty teenager. Got any sad poetry you wanna show me? Have a newfound interest in My Chemical Romance?”

“Hey, don’t conflate your teenage experience with mine. Just because you grew up without colour TV…”

“Ooh, touche.” He laughed. “Seriously though, Do you just not go to school or something? Like, how do you have the time for all of this? Don’t you have homework or something?”

“Were you exactly studious at my age?”

“Well… no. I mean, kind of? It’s complicated.”

“Is that code for ‘I was a complete fucking nerd’?”

“No, it’s more code for ‘I was picking fights with the kids from the other schools to the point wherein I was literally infamous’ but also ‘yeah I kinda was a complete nerd.’ I don’t know. Again, it’s complicated. Picture Steve Irwin, but edgy, that was me.”

“Infamous?”

“Well, once we hit the last couple of years people figured to steer pretty clear.” Managing an act for his parents was one thing, his peers, another, especially as the divide between the two grew further and further. And he hadn’t been as versed in his own strange method of secret keeping quite yet, nor the new dynamics of high school life. Mistrust from his peers was an expected evil, in hindsight (It taught him a lot, though. He wasn’t making the same mistakes he was back then, for good reason).“I wasn’t  _ unpopular _ , per se, I still got invited to all the parties and stuff, but there were enough people who didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“So, you didn’t have any friends.”

“I had friends, I wasn’t some Nigel No Mates or anything, it was just… I always had a knack for getting myself into deep shit, and less of a knack for getting myself out of it.”

“So nothing’s changed, then?”

“Hey, I handled myself fine yesterday.”

“You shouldn’t have even  _ been _ there.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m sorry about lying to you yesterday.”

“You really think I’ve never been lied to before? Nah, you were a total asshole to Carmen. She’s just trying to protect you, man.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I am. But have you guys considered that maybe I don’t need protecting?”

“Have you ever had any sort of experience in high level thievery at  _ all _ ?”

“Well, no.”

“Then we need to stop you from getting yourself and everyone else arrested, or worse. And do you have any idea how hard it can be to have to lead other people through that sort of high stakes situation? When you know that one wrong decision could put all of you in jail?”

More than Player knew. More than they could ever know.

“No…”

“Exactly. You’ve got a lot to learn, you need to let the people who know what they’re doing take charge. And I know that your friends are missing and I’m sorry and we are trying everything to get them back but they got themselves into that situation so you can’t just keep using them as an excuse to lash out at people.”

“I know, I already had this conversation with- wait. What did you say about my friends?”

“Oh… ah, nothing! It just slipped out, I didn’t mean it.”

What the hell was he talking about, getting themselves into that situation? They’d never… he’d been the one… he’d forced their hands, he’d always known that, even from the start. But how the hell, there was no way Player could’ve known that, Player didn’t know any of it, as far as  _ any _ of them were aware, Matt and Toby had fallen victim to virtue of being connected, however distantly, to Carmen Sandiego, that all he was was the bridge connected them, the message to be sent. So why would Player think anything different?

Unless…

It felt like maggots had erupted into his stomach.

“You know.” There was no point clarifying further.

“What? What do I know?”

“What happened… what they were being accused of.” Even now, when breathing feels like ice down his back, he keeps it vague. He deflects. He plays. He doesn’t know the things that he knows. It’s when the stakes are highest that the motivations get revealed, that’s what people think, and Gray’s not about to be the person who shows them wrong.

“Accused? Graham, what are you-”

“Player.”

It’s a beat’s silence, then Player sighs.

“I ran a background check on them, ages ago. Jesus, Graham, I don’t know how you hid it, it’s everywhere.”

“Does Carmen know?”

“I figured you had a reason to keep it from her.”

“What does that mean?”

“Graham, did you know?”   
  


Was he really going to throw them under the bus?

“No. I had no idea.”

Only temporarily.

“I don’t believe it, though.” He continued, before the ache in his stomach got too much. “It’s all a lie, Toby would never do something like that, something else’s going on.”

Well, that much was true. But the guilt he felt in saying it nullified its honesty. He might as well have lied. It would’ve been the same outcome.

“Then what happened?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what happened that night, but suddenly the cops were there and Toby wasn’t. But he didn’t do anything, I swear! I know him, there was no way he would have done something like that, not by his own plan. And he never would’ve laid a hand on Matt, he loved her, he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her!”

But Gray had loved her too. Gray had loved the both of them, and that had never stopped him.

“Graham, do you actually believe that? Because I need you to be honest with us, do you genuinely believe that he’s innocent?”

“Yes. I do.”

Again, at least that much was true. 

Player didn’t respond.

“Are you going to tell Carmen?” Gray asked him.

“Not if you don’t want me to. But I think you should tell her. If you genuinely believe that it’s all a setup, then I don’t see why you’d keep it quiet. Carmen would understand, put some more faith in her.”

“I’ll think about it. Thanks, Player.”

“Graham? Graham, come in.”

“Carmen?”

“We’re in the shop. Anything we need to look for?”

“The door behind the counter. I think it’s a storeroom or something, she might have something stashed in there. Don’t bother with the door on the right, it’s a change room, nothing special.”

“Alright, I’m going in.”

He could hear Carmen’s footsteps, and the sound of a door opening. 

“What’s in there?”

“Well, you’re right, it’s just a storeroom, but… there’s a workbench in here. Wait, she was  _ living _ in here.”

“Seriously?”

“There’s a bed in here and everything. But no Lorikeet.”

“Wait, then where is she?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t think that she’s still in the park, do you?” Amelia’s concerned voice came over. “That we-”

“Woah, Amelia, don’t get my hopes up!”

“Graham.”

“Yeah, yeah. What’s on the workbench?”

“Sewing machine, fabrics, and what looks like blueprints.”

“What’s on the blueprints?”

“I can’t tell, I don’t think it’s finished, and I can’t read Lorikeet’s handwriting.”

“Take them. I’ll see if I can decipher them.”

He heard a rustling of paper. “Anything else?” He asked.

“Nothing worth taking. Just clothes and such. Oh, and more trackers.”

“Smash ‘em.”

“Why?”

“Pettiness.”

“We’re better than that, here.” Carmen said, over the crunching noise of a heel against a mass of tracking devices. 

“Nice.”

“Ok, I think that’s everything. Let’s start getting the clothes out. Ivy, Amelia, you’re up.”

“Remember to clear out the second floor.”

“Shadowsan’s already there.”

“Where do we start?” Amelia asked, her voice distant to him. 

“Ivy, you go upstairs with Shadowsan. Amelia, you’re with me. Let’s get as much out as we can.”

“Roger that.”

It was the sound of objects being moved around, cloth rustling, a clatter and a curse as Amelia knocked something over. Then it was footsteps, the opening of a van door.

Rinse. Repeat.

“This is fun.” He said.

“You could’ve joined us, but you had to go and be an idiot, and now you’re stuck in the naughty corner.” Amelia said.

Carmen laughed.

“I think we’re nearly done. I’ll go check on the other two. You wait here with Zack” 

Footsteps again. Gray zoned out.

“Shi-”

That woke him up in a flash.

“Carmen?! Carmen, what was that, come in. Carmen!”

“It’s cut out,” Player said, “I can’t reach her.”

“Gray, something’s happened.” Zack told him. “The doors just slammed shut. The lights are out. I think we tripped an alarm.”

“Shit. Amelia, are you there?”

“I am.” He sighed in relief at the sound of her voice. 

“Gray, what do we do?” Amelia asked, terrified. “They’re trapped in there!”

“Hey, hey, Carm will figure a way out. She always does.”

“But what if she can’t!?”

“Amelia, breathe for a minute. You can’t help them if you panic. Ok?”

He could hear her, breathing sharply, slowly calming herself down. Eventually, her breaths evened out. 

“Now,” He told her, “It’s a shot in the dark, but I have a plan. Do you still have the taser I gave you?”

“Yes.”

“And Zack, do you have anything that could chip wood?”

“We have the bats we were gonna use on the trackers.”

“But there’s no way I could break through wood that thick!” Amelia told him. “And neither could Zack, by the looks of it. Shit, wait, that was offensive, sorry!”

“Nah, you’re not wrong.”

“I know, Amelia. But you won’t have to. You don’t need to. All you need to do is swing it hard at the handles. Knock them off if you have to. Then swing it where the doors meet, all you want to do is expose the metal. Then blast it as much as you can, if you overload the system then it will shut off and the doors will unlock. Do you think you can do that?”

“I don’t know… surely Zack would be better suited…”

“I need to stay here, we need to make a quick exit once you guys are out. You’ll be fine, Amelia, I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

“But what if I screw it up?”

“Then it’s a good thing Carmen can get herself out of anything, isn’t it?”

Even though he couldn’t see it, he could hear Amelia’s mouth open to argue, could feel the worry emanating off her. But her resolve steeled, he could feel the set of her shoulders, the determination on her face.

“I’ll be back.” She said, and he heard her leave. Heard the van door slam behind her.

“Are you sure about this?” Zack asked him.

“Honestly, I have no clue if it’ll work. But if it does then she’s just saved everyone’s asses. Carmen can’t ignore that.”

“Wait, what are you trying to do?”

“Prove her worth.”

“Carm already sees her worth. Wouldn’t have let her join otherwise.”

“Maybe. But she’s more aware of the fact that Carmen only asked her because I told her to than I’d like her to be. She needs to prove herself on her own ground, needs to prove to herself that she belongs here. She’ll spend the rest of her life questioning it otherwise.”

“And you think this is the right time to do it?”

“Guess we’ll wait and see.”

He heard the van doors open.

“Amelia! Did it work?”

“No, but the effort was admirable.” Shadowsan said. 

“They cut themselves out through the window.” Amelia said.

“Oh, oops. Did you guys get everything?”

“We tried, but we had to leave a lot behind when we were getting out.”

“Um… that may not be an issue.” Ivy said. “Look.”

“What is it?” Gray asked. 

“Shit… is that smoke?” Amelia asked. 

Ah. Maybe Gray should’ve seen that coming, but in his defense, he’d expected Lorikeet’s wiring to be a lot more modernised than that.

“Oh, ah, oh no.”

“Gray…”

“Ah… you blasted the door with the taser to overload the system, I thought that there would be a breaker that would shut it down. But, it appears it wasn’t, and it appears that it has caught fire.”

“What!? What would’ve happened if they hadn’t gotten out?”

“Let’s just be glad that they did.”

“Regardless, I think it’s high time we take our leave.” Carmen said, “Zack, step on it.”

“Roger that, boss!”

He heard the rumble of the van thrumming to life, and with a screech of tires, there was a loud thump, as is of something hitting the side of the van.

“Ack!”

“Zack, be careful!”

“You good, Amelia?”

“Fine, Gray. Now, let’s get to tracker busting.”   
  


***   
  


It was 10 minutes of listening to the arhythmic thuds of various textiles being violently attacked by a horde of people armed with a purpose and a baseball bat before something happened. He was talking to Zack when Carmen got his attention. 

“Zack, I think we’ve got a tail.”

“Red car in the other lane?”

“That’s the one. Move in so I can get a better look.”

“On it.” He could hear the clicks of the indicator, before they stopped. There was a pause. 

“So, guess what you get when you put two manic projectile-wielding operatives in a car together?” She asked.

“An interesting evening.”

“The circus’ new headliners.”

“The next Fast and Furious.”

“Too many near death experiences from paper weaponry.”

“Too many near death experiences from  _ actual _ weaponry.”

“An all in all suboptimal time. 3 star rating on Google, at best.” Player concluded.

“I was gonna say a wild ride, but those also work.” Carmen said. “Player, find us a side route. As deserted as possible.”

“On it, Red. Take the third exit up ahead.”

“You heard him, Zack.”

“Just a reminder to keep all hands and feet in the vehicle. Things are about to get crazy.”

He heard the van pick up speed, then swerve around a corner. There was another thump and a noise that he presumed was Amelia losing her balance again, judging by the reaction.

“So who  _ is _ Paper Star?” He asked.

“Another operative. Origami expert, dresses like a set of traffic lights. Give her the tiniest scrap of paper and she’s a threat.”

“But how much can paper actually do?”

There were two loud thunks. Amelia squealed.

“Crikey!”

“That much.” Carmen told him.

“Wait, she threw paper? From a  _ moving  _ vehicle? How powerful’s her throw!?”

“You’d be surprised. Zack, keep us moving.”

“Roger that, boss. Amelia, you might wanna hold on to something.”

“Ivy, grab as much of this as you can. Shadowsan, when I give the signal, open the doors.” Carmen commanded, “We’re gonna stop them in their tracks.”

It was tense silence, just the noise of footsteps and shifting material.

“You ready?” Carmen asked.

“As I’ll ever be.” Ivy responded.

“Okay… Player, get us a route out of here. Zack, slow us down, we can’t give them a chance to swerve.”

“Alrighty.”

“Shadowsan, Ivy, on my signal. Amelia, hold tight.”

There was a tense pause. Gray’s heart began to race, faster and faster.

Curtain going up.

“Okay, Shadowsan. Now!”

Gray couldn’t hear anything over the rushing wind. There was a muffled call, it sounded like Carmen’s voice, and there were two slams. Then silence that sounded stranger than the noise.

“Did we… did we stop them?”   
  


Nobody replied, not immediately. 

“I think we did.” Carmen said, eventually.

Gray let out a sharp, relieved exhale. 

“So, did we… are we… good?” Amelia asked, almost unsure. 

“Yes, I think we’re good. Let’s go trash the rest of her stuff.”

Amelia let out an elated giggle. Then another curse as the van took off too suddenly.

***

Amelia came back with the rest still filled with adrenaline stemmed giddiness. She fell down on the couch weightlessly, still laughing to herself. 

“Hey, Gray.”

“Hey. That went well, didn’t it?”

“It did!”

“How are you?” Carmen asked him. “No busted stitches or anything?”

“As if I’d have a chance to, sitting here.”

“I don’t know, I’m sure you’d manage to find a way.”

“Ok. Fair. So what about those blueprints?”

“Oh. I forgot about them.” Carmen reached into her coat, and pulled up a roll of paper, handing it to him. “You think you could figure them out? They don’t look finished.”

“I reckon I could. Just give me some time to take a proper look at it.”

“We can work on them tomorrow, for now, I think a break is in order.”

“Yeah, I think Amelia needs some time to calm down.”

“Fuck off, Gray.” Amelia told him, without any malice.

“I’m starving, can we go for some food?” Zack asked.

“I’d be down for some sushi.” 

“Ugh! Ew! Sushi!”

Gray laughed at Zack’s disgust, and it was nice, the adrenaline and the excitement and the exhaustion. All in a mission well done. He can breathe now, and he can call it a success. It’s nice, it’s so nice, to finally be here. And-

And he’s been here before.

He’s aware of his voice slowly fading out, but it feels like he’s hearing it from far away. It’s just a glimpse, just a moment, and he’s with people he can’t even recognise, two guys, one girl, he’s never seen them in his life. He can’t even believe that they’re real. And yet, and yet… he’s holding it so close to his chest, it’s foreign and new, he can’t understand it but it feels so dear to him, so close. If he didn’t hold onto it tightly it would disappear. His chest ached. He didn’t know what to think of it. 

He didn’t know what to think of any of it.

“Graham?” Carmen brought him back to reality. “You zoned out for a second, is everything alright?”

He didn’t know what to think of it. 

“Yes, I’m fine. I just zoned out for a second.”

So he wouldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paper Star really said fuck physics.


	30. Matt Should Really Let This Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt and Toby decide what to do. Questions are raised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who found out she's got 5 assignments due in the same two weeks? Me! Fun times!
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

Toby hits the ground again. This time he makes no effort to get up. Matt would bring herself to be sympathetic, but she’s more caught up in the thrill of winning. Sure, winning  _ again _ . Sure, winning for the 5th time in a row. Out of 5 fights. But still.

She offers him her hand. He doesn’t take it immediately.

“Come on, last round, like you promised. Practice is over, I wanna eat.” 

He still doesn’t take it. One hand runs through his hair. She’s seen Gray do it so many times that she hadn’t realised Toby had picked it up. The movement’s different, though. Gray always combed his fingers through his fringe, a way of keeping it tidy that bled into habit. Toby’s is more of an exhausted movement. 

“Are you alright?” He’s tired. Matt knows this. He’s tired and miserable. She knows that. She asks anyway.

“I’m fine, Matt. Just give me a minute.”

A sigh escapes her. “Take your time, then. It’s not like I have anywhere I need to be, with any  _ delicious meal  _ waiting for me.”

Matt grabs her water bottle and drinks from it, leaving Toby to wallow in his own losses. She knows that she’s stronger than him, she has for a while. She knows that he knows it, too. She knows that it bothers him. She knows he pretends it doesn’t.

“Have you given the photo any more thought?” Matt asks him, using the one thing bound to take his mind off his misery. Toby looks at her, suspicious.

“No.”

“Liar.”

  
“Fine. I haven’t got it out of my head since. Have you?”

“No.” She concedes. She knows that it’s preoccupied Toby far more than it has her. It’s the way they both think, simply.

“But what do we do? She asks him.

“Nothing.” Toby’s voice is firm. “We forget we saw anything and leave it at that.”

“So, what? We just give up?”

“Right now, yes. Right now we’re students who can still get kicked out, and we  _ cannot _ get kicked out. We can figure it out when we’re members.”

He’s right. But she hates the idea of waiting, hates the idea of biding her time. But there are people here who she cares about, and she doesn’t know what the world would be like for her were she to return to it. Still. A promise had been made to her. She expects it to be upheld, regardless of how the situation has changed. 

“What would happen if we got kicked out?” She asks, as Toby finally gets to his feet. “I mean, it’s real risky for them to have a bunch of ex-operatives lying around, isn’t it?”

“Kill us, probably.” Toby says, offhandedly. “Which is why we shouldn’t go sticking our noses in their business.”

“Gee, you’re a bundle of optimism.” She retorts, but she can’t deny that he’s right. “Anyway, can we  _ please  _ go get some food now? I’m starving.”

“Matt, we’re all aware you're hungry. Yes. We can go eat now.”

***

It wasn’t abnormal to see fully fledged VILE operatives around the island. After all, this wasn’t just an academy, it was the official home base. So there wasn’t a day in which it wasn’t teeming with life. It had given Matt rare insight into the daily lives of some of the world’s best thieves and spies. They were incredibly average. But the operatives usually didn’t talk to the trainees too much, anyway. Not a rule, she figured, just a social dynamic. It’d be their turn one day. 

They were in the cafeteria, Matt finally,  _ finally _ , being able to eat. It’s a struggle not to wolf down her food. Rosalind just bids them goodbye and leaves the table, Chae-Min following her not far behind, when she hears a familiar voice behind them.

“You two better not be getting into too much trouble without me.”

A grin spreads across her face. 

“Where’ve you been? It’s been ages!” She asks, as Crow slides into the spot where Rosalind had just been sitting. Toby doesn’t say anything, just mopes.

“Oh, you know, here and there. Faculty’s been real busy lately.” Crow pulls off his goggles and runs a hand through his hair, shaking out the loose curls. “How’s academy life treating you?”

“Pretty go-”

“Terribly.” Toby cuts her off. She sighs.

“What’s happening?” Crow asks. “What’s wrong?”   
  


“He’s struggling in Coach Brunt’s class.” She tells him. “It’s probably not helping that we’re sparring partners. Comparatively speaking.”

“How modest of you.” Toby says, petulant, but Matt takes no heed.

“You know I’m right, Toby, otherwise you wouldn’t be as whiny as you are.” Should she be gentler with this? Maybe. But irritation is starting to seep in. She’s getting a sense that Toby blames  _ her _ . 

“Thanks, Matt.”

“Hey, don’t get yourself all caught up.” Crow cut in, “You don’t have to be good at hand-to-hand to be a good thief. I can’t fight to save my life, but I’m quick on my feet and good at getting away, so I rely on that. Rely on what you’re good at, and you’ve gotta be good at something, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

Toby perks up a little, and Matt can breathe a little better. She just hopes it stays.

“Anyway,” Crow continues. “You just need to pass. You don’t need to be exceptional.”

“And I’m probably not going to pass.” Toby slumped, head on his arm. “I’m not a good fighter, I’m not a fast runner, I’m not agile like you or Matt, and I’m weak as shit. I’m screwed.”

“That’s not true! You’re strong enough to pick me up!” She points out. It’s a reach, sure, but he can with a surprising amount of ease.

“And you’re not exactly heavy.”

“It doesn’t matter!” Crow tells him. “Rely on your other strengths! I know you’ve got a keen eye, I’ve known that since I’ve known you. Use that.”

“Exactly. Stop beating yourself up - or well, you know,  _ not, _ just - stop berating yourself for not being good at everything!”

Toby gives them a gentle smile. A gentle assurance that he will be fine. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “You noticed that?” He turns to Crow, “You noticed that I saw you back then?”

“Aye, I did.”

“Back when you were following us?” She asks, uselessly, because what other time would they be talking about? She was there. She saw him too. No, Matt asks because she’s got an idea. Matt asks because there’s a theory that’s been growing in her mind, and now an avenue’s opened up for her to prove it. She must be gentle, though. She must be careful. If there is something there, she knows telling Crow they know that will tell VILE they know that. Which, that’s probably not the best result.

“Yeah, back then.”

“Say, about that,” She says, will a little too much point to be casual. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

The other two turn to look at her.

“Sure. Shoot.” Crow says.

“Back then, remember that time we followed you?”

“How could I forget?” Crow reaches to take some food from Toby’s plate. Toby, not looking away from her, slaps his hand away.

“Do you remember the third person with us?”

Toby’s gaze suddenly contains a piercing amount of demands. Crow glances down, then laughs.

“He chased me onto a rooftop. I’ve been at VILE for 9 years, and I’ve never had that before. Well, from a civilian, anyway. He was a gutsy little thing.”

“Then why didn’t VILE recruit him as well?”

Toby’s foot slides to rest just next to hers. Ready to stomp if he feels the need. She doesn’t acknowledge it.

Crow shrugs. “I dunno. That’s faculty business, not mine. I don’t make the calls on who gets to join or not.”

“But you must know something, right? I mean, you were there when we met Countess Cleo. You were the one who got the intel on us in the first place. They must have given you some reason why, right?”

“Well, Cleo was already pushing boundaries when she took the two of you. She had to get special permission from the rest of the faculty to take three.”

“Three? There’s only two of us, that’s why I’m asking.”

“The Russian kid. Nikolay. We recruited him first.”

“Nikolay?” Toby asks.

“Kolya.” She explains. Crow nods.

“The art forger. Yeah. It’s not abnormal for members to take more than one recruit, but three? That threw everything off. She had to get the rest of the faculty’s approval first, and even then she could only take two. You two just happened to be the best fit of the three. That’s all it came down to.”

How, though? How could Crow have seen this objectively and decided that between her and Gray, she was the one who belonged here? How could VILE? She was the weakest link out of the three of them, she’s known that, there’s no shame in that, but for someone else to ignore that? That’s an issue.

“But, we were picked because of, well, that thing at the Sydney Opera House, right?” They don’t like talking too much about how they got here, particularly considering some of their classmates' origin stories, their’s pales in comparison. Crow nods, and she continues. “But, it’s like we said when you first brought us in, we were only following orders. The entire thing was  _ his _ idea. So why one of us and not him?”

Toby’s foot nudges hers. It’s gentle, but she can tell how much he wants this to stop. He wants her to stop. But she ignores it. She’s in far too deep to back out solely due to the fact that he wants her to.

“I can’t tell you. Again, it was Cleo’s decision, not mine, all I did was gather intel.” Crow scrutinises her. “Why does this matter to you so much?”

“Because he’s my friend and I miss him. I want to see him again.” She tells Crow. And it’s true. But there’s also the fact that she knows she’s not supposed to be here. Out of the three of them, she was supposed to be the one that got left behind. She always was. By her own hand or not, that’s how it went down. So what is she still doing here? Why only now had she been given the easy way out? She was finally ready to face up to the worst parts of herself, why were the consequences snatched away from her the moment she was ready to accept them?

Crow gives her a sympathetic look. “I know. It’s hard, isn’t it? There’s not a single person here who hasn’t had to leave someone and something behind. But you two never really had a choice in that.”

It’s rare for Matt to hear someone remind her of that. Toby won’t talk about it. It bothers him, but he won’t talk about it. At least, not to her. They look at it two very different ways.

“Who did you…” She asks, out of curiosity, this time. “I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

Crow shakes his head. “It’s fine. There was a girl I grew up with in Cork, the only one who’d ever put up with my theatrics. We got up to so much stupid bullshit together, but she wanted something else out of life than I did. She wanted to help people, that was always her end goal, but I wanted more, so when VILE came calling, what could I do? I needed to leave her behind.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. Sure, I miss her, but I’m happier here than I ever was back in Ireland. It’s home. I belong here.”

Matt smiles at him, but it feels fake. She knows she can’t question the faculty, not 4 months in when she already knows too much, but she doesn’t belong here. This was supposed to be Gray’s place. It makes way more sense. How could VILE not see that? Something wasn’t adding up. The picture in the doll just served to make it undeniable.

“Hey, have you two thought about code names yet?” Crow asks them. He’s trying to change the subject. She goes along with it anyway.

“I’ve got some idea of what I might want, but I don’t have anything specific yet.” She says.

“What about you, Toby?”

Toby looks down at his lap. “There’s… a name I’ve been considering. But I don’t wanna say anything until I’m completely sure of it.”

“You’ve got ages to decide, you don’t need to rush it.” Crow stands up, all too rushed. “Hey, speaking of, lemme show you what I’ve been working on!” 

They look at each other. Toby’s waiting for Crow to leave before he can reprimand her. Matt’s seriously not in the mood for that. 

“We’d love to.” She tells him, standing up as well. “Come on, Toby.”

Toby bites his tongue. Not literally. But she knows what he’s holding back. “Sure.”

***

“Did you really think he was hiding something?” Toby asks her, later on. They’re walking back to the dormitories, every now and then they pass by a window filled and get a blast of golden sunlight.

“I don’t think he knows beyond what VILE’s told him, like he said.” She replies. “But he did seem pretty keen to change the subject. Could’ve just wanted to cheer us up, though.” 

“Yeah, but he kept glancing down. He couldn’t hold your gaze.”

“Couldn’t he?”

“They were only momentary movements, but they were still there. He’d glance down for just a seconds before looking back up.”

“But that’s normal. It’d be weirder if he just stared at me for 10 minutes straight, you know?”

“I know.” They turn a corner, and Toby grabs her shoulder suddenly, stopping her in the hallway. 

“What the hell were you trying to do with that?” He demands. 

Oh, here it comes.

“Prove a theory.”

“I thought I told you that we weren’t pursuing this further.”

“And I thought you didn’t tell me what to do.”

Toby pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yes, yes, you’re your own woman, you can do what you want, but do you realise how risky that was? If Crow realised that we knew something…”

“What? What would happen? What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m afraid that this is gonna get us kicked out, Matt! We are not in any position to bargain with them!” Toby tells her in an undertone.

Matt knows that Toby has his reasons. She does. But she hates the way he shuts her down every time they try to talk about it. She knows that his mind has a tendency to run to the worst case scenarios, she knows that his actions only ever come from a want to protect the people closest to him. But she’s sick of the way he makes her feel like she’s going to screw it all up. Like she’s too dangerous to be let anywhere near what’s going on in his head. Like she’s just another problem.

And she thinks she’s had it, now. She’s getting Toby to talk about it if it’s the last thing she does. 

“Does it matter? Gray could be in serious danger and you just wanna think about how it affects us?”   
  


“I think about how it affects us because there’s nothing we can do for him! If we keep sticking our noses where they don’t belong, we’re going to end up in serious danger, and for what!?”

“Seriously? Do you actually want to just abandon him?”

Toby tries to speak, but the words don’t come out. He tries again. To the same effect.

“No, of course I don’t.” He says, eventually. “But I need to look at the bigger picture. There’s nothing either of us can do for him.”

“You know that if VILE wanted Gray out of the way they would’ve just killed him by now!” She says, before he gets too far into his stupid idealism and changes the subject completely. “They know he’s defenceless, they know he’s back in Australia, if they wanted to take a stab at Carmen they could’ve wiped him out ages ago! They mightn’t have even known that his memories are gone! So why is he still there? And why are they refusing to acknowledge his existence?”

Toby doesn’t reply immediately. It’s silent, and Matt doesn’t know if she’s gotten anywhere. She really hopes she has for once. 

“You think Carmen had a hand in Gray’s memories too, don’t you?” Toby asks, quietly, already knowing the answer.

She nods. “I do.”

“Why?”

“Same reason you think it. VILE’s not an agency that leaves loose ends untied, it’s too risky. If it really came down to it, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill if needed. So why is Gray still alive? And better question, why isn’t he here?”

“What do you mean?”   
  


“The faculty knows that he was the brains behind the robbery, that’s how we got here. So why would they take the accomplices but not the leader? Regardless of limits on recruits, he’s the one that should’ve been recruited! It makes sense, right? But he hasn’t. Why hasn’t he? Wouldn’t it be more of a slap in the face to Carmen Sandiego if the faculty not only wiped her assistant’s memory, then recruited him in something that she’s inherently against? If I were the faculty and I wanted to get back at her, it’s what I would do.”

“So you think they didn’t know? They didn’t know that Gray’s memories were gone?”

“No, I believe that they knew that Carmen was the one who wiped them. I believe that they think that she’s turned her back on him. That he doesn’t mean anything to her anymore. Without Carmen, Gray has no value.”

“I know, but we don’t have any proof that Carmen had anything to do with his memories.”

“We don’t really have any proof they worked together, either, but it makes enough sense for us to think it.”

“Yes, but we can’t do anything about it. That’s my entire point!”

“Come on, VILE knows something, it’s the only explanation for their behaviour.”

“You are not suggesting that we investigate this ourselves.” He says it as if he has the sole authority on the matter. She bristles, just a little.

“I am. We have to!”

“And I’ve just told you, we can’t!”

“I’m not giving up until I get answers.” If Matt’s good at anything, it’s putting her foot down. And digging it in.

“Look,” Toby says, with growing frustration. “I know you mean well, and I know this telling you this is like praying to a dead god, but you need to let this go.”

“No!”

“Stop being so goddamn stubborn! Just-”

Toby stops suddenly. He turns his head. And now she can hear it too. It’s actually surprisingly loud. The footsteps. The humming. A girl skips around the corner. 

“What were you two arguing about~?” The girl asks. She has a yellow jacket with spikes on it. She has one half of her hair dyed a different colour. She proves Matt’s theory that VILE agents are what you get when you turn moodboards into real people.

“Nothing.” Toby says, quickly. He looks at her. He then looks down. 

“Um, who are you?” She asks. And she’s only a little abrasive about it, but Toby still gives her a pointed glance. The girl titters.

“You should respect your superiors more.” The girl tells her. “After all, you wouldn’t want the  _ Faculty _ to think you’re disloyal.” She’s smiling, but when she glances up from her nails to look at Matt, her eyes have a steely glint to them.

“They won’t.” Toby says. “It was just a question, after all.” His tone’s evasive, but in all the right ways. It sounds like the vocal version of a poker face. The girl’s eyes flick over to him.

“People call me Paper Star.” She says, still smiling that weird smile of hers. “And who are these fresh new recruits, I wonder?”

“I-”

“We don’t have code names yet.” Toby cuts her off. 

“Hm…” Paper Star says, looking only mildly interested. “Well, either way, a word to the wise, you should be careful where you have your little… quarrels. People might get the wrong… idea.”

And off she goes, skipping straight between the two of them and down the hall. Humming again. 

“Thanks.” Matt calls out, watching her go. “I’ll take that into account the next time I want advice from a knockoff-”

Toby elbows her in the ribs. Hard. And Toby has pointy elbows.

“Hey!”

“See what I mean, Matt! You brought it up and now she’s heard!” 

Even Matt can admit that she may have screwed up. Which is still a foreign concept to her, but she’s trying.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Sorry?! She’s gonna go straight to the Faculty! We’re screwed and all you have to say is ‘yeah, sorry’!?”

“You don’t know she’s gonna tell! You don’t even know for sure if she heard anything!”

“‘People might get the wrong idea,’ you know what she was implying with that!”

“Yeah? And so what if she does? We’re not technically breaking any rules, yet. They never explicitly said that we  _ couldn’t _ look into what happened to Gray. Worst comes to worst, they pull us up and tell us not to investigate it further, in which case we just keep going in secret. After all, how could we have known that they didn’t want us to look into it?”

“How could we have known!? Matt it’s basic mental rea- wait, what do you mean  _ keep going _ !?” Toby runs his hands through his hair. “No. We are  _ not  _ pursuing this further! We’ve already had one near miss just a minute ago! We are leaving this as it is and that’s  _ final _ .”

Matt opens her mouth again, ready to argue. But then she closes it. It was normally so easy for her to dig her heels in. To claw until her fingers were bleeding, until she was the last man standing. Jacob had once told her that her stubbornness was going to bite her in the ass one day. She’d been too stubborn to believe it. And it got her kicked out. 

It had taken her nearly 3 years for her to realise that he was right. But, hey, better late than never.

Right?

She hopes so.

“Alright, alright, look.” She says, before Toby starts pulling his hair out. “How about this.” She sighs, “I promise that I won’t look into this any further, starting from now.” He stares at her, incredulous, which tells her she’s finally doing something right. “But, if anything comes up,  _ anything _ , we follow it. Alright?”

Toby’s still staring at her like she’s grown an extra head. “Are you… compromising? You? Of all people?” 

She snorts. “Don’t get used to it. We have a deal?”

Toby immediately narrows his eyes. 

“How do I know that you won’t go looking for stuff on your own and pretend it was an accident?”

“I cross my heart.” She does the motion. “And hope to die, thus solemnly swearing that I, Madison Julia Wells, will not intentionally pursue this line of questioning further. Anyway, you know I never break a promise. It’s a point of pride.”

“That is true.” Toby says, conceding. 

“So?”

Toby thinks about it. “Fine. But  _ only _ if information comes to us. Not the other way round.”

Matt smiles. She’ll take it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take a shot every time one of the trio reminisces about the others and you'll have alcohol poisoning in less than an hour.


	31. Gray, Blueprint Translator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go back home. Amelia reveals something. Gray has a myriad of conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uggh I know this is late and this is short but I have 4 assignments due within the same two weeks as my 18th birthday so I have been absolutely under the pump I'm sorry.

Amelia was asleep. The past few days had worn her out, no doubt. She’d ended up leant against his shoulder, one of her buns smushed up against the fabric of his jacket. He wished he could sleep as well, but he couldn’t do it as out in the open on the plane as he was. Anyway, he’d had something else to keep him awake.

Nothing had ever been so vivid. He could see it so clearly, play it again and again in his head. It must have meant something to him, a long time ago, it must have been important, but now the connection’s been lost. He’s viewing his life from the outside in, he’s watching it like he’s in a theatre, and he hasn’t been given any reason to care about the protagonist. 

“Graham, you alright?”

Carmen broke him out of his reverie.

“Hm? Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Something’s been on your mind lately.” Gray didn’t know why he wasn’t telling her, he trusted her, but everytime he tried to breach the subject something screamed at him to get away. He trusts her, he knows he trusts her, so why does this still feel like such a minefield? 

“Oh, it’s nothing.” He lied, rolling it off of his tongue so naturally that he almost believed it. “I’ve just… I’m thinking about the blueprints. I can’t make sense of them.”

“You’ve only really had a night to look at them. You can figure it out when we get back.”

“Yeah. You’re right. I just can’t for the life of me read Lorikeet’s handwriting. It’s literal bird scratch. And then it’s like she just stopped drawing it halfway through, I can’t tell if it’s intentional or she just gave up halfway through.”

“It probably was. Lorikeet was always a little outlandish. She loved doing things that didn’t make a lot of sense to people. Keep them on their toes.”

“That’s really helpful for us.”

“Welcome to VILE.”

Amelia mumbled something in her sleep. 

“She did well last night.” Carmen told him.

“She did. I have to thank her.”

Carmen looked confused. “For what?”

She had an impeccable poker face. But it wasn’t enough to fool him.

“You’re really gonna sit there and tell me that you needed my specific expertise in the art of putting objects on the ground and stepping on them? Carmen, come on.”

In her defense, she did try to keep up pretense. But she couldn’t hold it, and her face split into a guilty grin.

“She didn’t want you to be the only one left behind.” Carmen told him. 

“I know.” Gray looked at Amelia, filled with a soft, pervading gratitude. “I’m glad.”

“Though I suppose I have to thank you, as well.” Carmen told him. “Even if you were acting like a complete dumbass, we wouldn’t have known what was really going on if it wasn’t for you.”

“You couldn’t have said that day before yesterday?”

“You were being an dick, day before yesterday.”

Gray laughed, and the noise combined with the movement was enough to make Amelia jolt up. 

“What? What’s going on…?” She asked, blinking blearily at him.

“You were asleep.”

“I gathered as much,” Amelia said, slowly, trying to get her bearings. “How far away are we?”   
  


“About four hours,” Carmen told her. Amelia nodded, still not quite all there. 

“Remind me to call my parents when we get back. They’ve been trying all since Tuesday, but I’ve been too caught up.”

“Shit, that can’t be good. Everything okay?” He said, Amelia looked at him confused, but then her eyes widened with understanding. 

“Oh, no, they just want to wish me a Happy Birthday, nothing bad.”

“Wait, when’s your birthday?” He asked.

“April 28th.” Amelia responded.

It takes Gray just a moment too long to click.

“That was the day before yesterday, though.”

“Yup. When we were in Harajuku. That was my 19th.”

“What!?” He exclaimed (quietly, though, because Zack and Ivy were still asleep, and sure, they slept like the dead, but he was still pushing his luck). “Why didn’t you say anything!?”

“I didn’t think it was important!” She told him, “I mean, you turned 24 back in January and you didn’t say anything!”

“Yeah, but I’ve got deep-seated childhood trauma, you’re different! I would’ve planned something if I’d known!”

“I thought the mission was more important! We could do something later if it really matters to you that much.”

“Deep-seated childhood trauma?” Carmen quirked an eyebrow. 

“Oh, yeah, my younger sister died when I was five.”

“Yeah, but what’s that got to do with your birthday?” Carmen asked.

“Your _sister_ _died?!_” 

“It was the night before my 5th birthday. Technically it  _ was  _ my 5th birthday.” He said, offhandedly. “So, yeah. My parents didn’t really celebrate it anymore after that.”

“That’s horrible!” Amelia said. Gray shrugged.

“I mean, it doesn’t really bother me anymore. I was 5. I didn’t really get what was happening.” All he did get was that his parents were upset, and his parents were sad and they were angry, and they were angry at him. And he didn’t get why. 

“Yeah, but that’s your younger sibling, you know? If anything happened to James, I...” She trailed off. 

“But you have had the chance to know him.” Shadowsan said. They all turned to him. Gray wasn’t aware that he was even awake. “Graham might not have had that chance.”

“She was only 3 months old. Again, I guess I never really grasped what was happening.” And by the time he did, it was already too late. He’d already watched his parents fall apart, lose all pretense of moving on, and he couldn’t play along, he couldn’t let it change him like it changed them. But that set him apart from his parents, suddenly, he wasn’t like them, wasn’t bound to them in his grief, and suddenly he was the outlier, he was the one who was causing problems. And he couldn’t cause problems anymore. That’s what he figured out when he was five, arms around his knees, petulant and tearful, his dad’s angry sobs still ringing in his ears. He didn’t mean to get in trouble, this time, all he did was shut that other boy’s stupid mouth, but it was part of a trend, and he’d been enough of another issue for people who’d already been through so much. He couldn’t be the bad kid, anymore. He figured it out.

  
  


And so, he learnt. He learnt how to be the perfect son, the model child, how to take the knife-edge that his life had become and dance on it. How to keep them from worrying about him. How to keep it concealed. And the more he grew, the more he learnt. He kept his secrets well, now. Making sure they never had to think about another wayward child. Doing what he had to do, pretending he understood them, understood their grief, knew what they were going through. 

And if he could barely remember Juliet’s face? Well, they didn’t need to know that. 

He kept his secrets well, after all. 

***

“I think I might have an idea.” Amelia said, still looking at the unfinished blueprints. They were spread out on the coffee table, where they had remained for the past three days, available for their perusal. Ivy was instrumental in decoding Lorikeet’s handwriting from scribble into definable language, but definable was applied in a very loose sense. Lorikeet had a shorthand that was clearly not supposed to be seen by others, because if he didn’t know that they were both from the same country, he wouldn’t believe that this was actually English.

“It’s not a stick-on taser, I already checked.”

“Damn. You sure?”

“If I’m reading this number right, the amperage isn't high enough to hurt anyone.”

“Anything over 20, right?” She asked. 

“You’ll survive 20, but it’ll hurt like a bitch. It’s anything over seventy-five that you’ve gotta look out for, it’ll make your ventricles twitch enough to stop your heart. Anything over a hundred’s lethal, so you wanna find a sweet spot between those two. Then again, anything over two hundred and they’ll probably live, but with bad burns, so maybe somewhere above there.” Amelia stared at him.

“Okay, I wanna know why you’re first thought when talking about dangerous amperages was to describe it in terms of torture. Also, how do you know that?”

Gray shrugged “Don’t you? It’s basic electrician stuff. Anyway, Lorikeet probably thinks in the same terms, I wouldn’t be surprised if something like that was on the books for her. Regardless,” He gestured to the blueprint, “Whatever this is, it’s not to incapacitate or extract info from someone.”

“But I think it is to harm them. Look at the needles. You don’t put something like this on someone with peaceful intentions.” Amelia read Ivy’s notes again. “I think this says ‘retractable.’”

“So?”

“I think this is made to be activated remotely. Because we know that this is a remote control.” She tapped the other blueprint. “I think that this is supposed to be attached to something, and then the needles press down when the button’s pressed. I just don’t get  _ why _ , though.”

“My theory would be to inject something. Like, drug someone remotely.”

“Drug someone?”

“Like your ACME needles, except from a distance. You stick it on someone, wait until they’re alone, drug them out. Easy.”

Amelia looked thoughtful. “They’d have to be some needles. Enough to go through clothing. And you’d have to be careful about where you stuck them to make sure they worked.”

“I know. It’s one theory, though,” Gray looked at the blank interior, as if willing for Lorikeet’s intention to appear. It didn’t work. “If only she’d finished drawing it.” 

“Then again, if it was poison or something, it wouldn’t matter,” Amelia pointed out, “It’d be like a snake bite. Which might explain whatever this means.” She gestured to the title written on top. The lower half of the writing had been scribbled over, making it the one thing Ivy couldn’t make sense of. 

“Why?”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna say anything because I didn’t think it made sense, but I think it says ‘Red Bellies.’”

“What, like the snake?”   
  
“Yeah. Which would explai-”

“The needles. It’d be li-”

“Like a snake bite.” Amelia cut over his interruption with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry.”

“We don’t know it for sure.” She said. “But it’s our best bet.” Her phone buzzed, and she checked it, “Shit, it’s late.” 

“You should go get some sleep. We’ll figure the rest of it out tomorrow.”

“You should, too. You look dead on your feet.” She told him, but when doesn’t he?

“That’s nothing new.” He said. “I remembered something, Amelia.”

“Okay…?”

“No, like, something came back to me. A lost memory.” 

This got Amelia’s attention. 

“Really? What was it?” She asked, leaning forward. 

“I was with a group of people. We were laughing about something, we’d just done pulled something off. Something big.”

“Who were they?”

“I don’t know. There were two men and a woman. I’ve never seen them before in my life. I don’t know what to think of it, it was so vivid, nothing memory’s felt like that before.”

Amelia nodded, “And how are you handling it?” 

“I’m tired of this constant teasing. I want it to stop.”

“It must be frustrating.” Amelia said. 

“You have no idea.”

Amelia didn’t reply, and he got the sense that she was trying to say something, but couldn’t find the words. He gave her time to run it over in her mind. 

“Hey, Gray?” She asked, eventually.

“Mm?”

“When you said you would’ve done something, for my birthday, I mean, did you actually mean that? Because it’s fine if you didn’t I don’t really mind it’s not that big of a deal I swear-”

“I meant it. What do you want to do?”

“I… I… well, I don’t know.” Amelia said. “I… uh, kinda wanted to… well… y’know, get drunk…” Her voice trailed off. Gray raised his eyebrow. She wouldn’t meet his gaze. 

“I mean… sure?” But nobody who had ever actually had any experience with alcohol ever asked permission to get wasted. “Wait, Amelia, have you never been drunk before?”

“Don’t laugh!” Amelia burst out, the tips of her ears a dark red, “Every time I thought about drinking I got paranoid that I’d go overboard and let something slip about ACME. I just never got around to it! I was the sober friend, you know?!”

“I’m not laughing.” How absolutely fitting. He was surprised that she’d even been tempted.

“But now that I think about it more, I’m starting to realise how much I actually missed growing up. I feel like I lost so many defining teenage moments. But now it doesn’t matter if I let anything slip. I can do what I want, I don’t work for ACME anymore. And I want my coming of age story, goddamnit!”

“And you reckon you’ll find that in too much bad vodka?”

“I don’t know, maybe?”

“Let’s do it, then.” He said, smiling.

Amelia looked up, “You sure?”

“Defining teenage moments, am I right?”

She smiled.

***

_ He’s chasing someone through long, grey hallways. He doesn’t know why he’s doing so, only that he is, and that he has to. Each one of his footsteps make a soft sparking noise as they touch the ground, but he does not look down to see the source. He cannot run, but it’s no matter, because his target is always a glimpse around the next corner. He’s holding something in his hand, he looks down and it’s a knife, Lorikeet’s knife, the one she had thrown at him. Why does he have it? He doesn’t need it, he has no intention of laying a hand on whoever it is he’s after. _

_ Or does he? _

_ He turns another corner, but this time it isn’t another hallway. The walls are paper now, bright, printed paper with lambs and cubs printed on them, and there’s a door, slightly ajar. He goes inside without knowing that he should, the answers are inside, what he’s looking for is on the other side of that door.  _

_ He opens it, noiselessly. The room’s empty. The room’s empty, except for one, low, table. _

_ And Matt, kneeling in front of it. _

_ “Close the door behind you, please.” _

_ He does. And he’s kneeling across from her, at the table, too. She’s wearing the same dress she was wearing at the ballet, and her hair’s just reaching past her jaw again. _

_ “You know what you have to do.” She’s smiling at him, knowingly, but she’s not looking up from her work. Gray looks, and sees the paper she’s folding with deft, delicate fingers. Her nails are just a little too long. _

_ “No. I don’t.” _

_ “You have to. It’ll be all your fault, otherwise.”  _

_ “Why?” _

_ She nods her head in his direction. “It’s all in your hands already.”  _

_ He looks down to the knife he’s holding. Immediately he knows what to do with it, and it’s at his shoulder, ready to strike. He can’t remember ever raising it.  _

_ “You don’t want to hurt people.” Matt tells him. “It will all be your fault.” She looks him dead in the eye. “Unless you know what to do.” _

_ He does know what to do. _

_ He drives the knife into his shoulder. He can feel the stitches splitting. _

It’s the pain that wakes him up. 

He reaches, grabs his shoulder, reminding himself not to yell out. Has he torn something? He seriously hopes he hasn’t torn something, tearing means mending, mending means restitching. He flicks his lamp on and peels his bandages back, trailing his fingers along the neat ladder line of stitches. There’s no tear. He’s fine. 

There are painkillers downstairs. He knows that because he left them down there like the stupid unprepared idiot that he is.

He climbs down the stairs as quietly as possible, still holding onto his shoulder as if his grip would ease the pain. It doesn’t. It actually makes it worse. But still, he does it, until he’s reached the downstairs landing, and to his surprise, there’s already a light on in the kitchen. 

Admittedly, there would’ve been a more convenient time to see Shadowsan. Like when he wasn’t half asleep and wearing kelpie patterned pyjamas that he wasn’t supposed to be seen dead in (they were comfy, alright?). But if his half-asleep vision was correct, it appeared that Shadowsan was currently holding the ice cream that Zack was taking the blame for eating all of. So maybe there would’ve been a more convenient time for Shadowsan to see him, as well.

They looked at each other. 

“We… didn’t see each other here.” He said. Shadowsan nodded. 

Gray looked to the painkillers he’d left on the table, before filling a glass up at the tap. His shoulder’s throbbing, but his dream’s preoccupying him. This isn’t the first time this has happened, but he’s starting to see the trends. Everytime he gets hurt his subconscious matches it tenfold. But what is that supposed to tell him? He’s in pain? 

Yeah. No shit. 

But why was Matt there? Was it even Matt? Sure, it was her face, her clothes, her hair, but none of the three were in cohesion, it looked like an imitation, a mimic. Like she wasn’t quite real. Like she was an exercise in the uncanny valley. 

“What do you know about dream symbolism?” He asked, suddenly. 

“Why?” Shadowsan looked at him. Gray shrugged.

“Nothing. Just a nightmare, is all.”

“About?”

“I had to stab myself. In the shoulder. The pain woke me up.”

“Did you tear your stitches?”   
  
“No. They’re fine.”

“Why did you have to stab yourself, then?”

He shrugged, again, “I was told that if I didn’t, people would get hurt.”   
  


“So you think you have to choose between your wellbeing and that of other people’s?”

  
“I don’t know, I mean, I guess...” 

“Have you had a dream like it before?”

“Not really. I mean, one time I dreamt that Carmen was electrocuting me, but that’s the closest thing to it.”

“Carmen electrocuting you?” Shadowsan’s voice was surprisingly urgent. “How?”

“I was in an electric chair and she was controlling it.” He replied, taken aback. “Why?”

Shadowsan’s face was guarded.

“Where were you?” He demanded.

“In my apartment, back in-”

“In the dream!”

“Oh? I don’t know, I don’t remember that much!”

  
“Hmm...” Shadowsan stared him down, piercing. “You are a very loyal person, Graham.” He said, suddenly.

Gray swears that there’s not a single person in this household who won’t make some grand analysis on his character whenever he tries to talk to them. Well, except maybe Zack. Jury’s still out on Ivy. 

“Uh… thanks?”

“But that loyalty will inevitably be tested. You need to make the right choice, when that time comes.”

“Ok?”

“Carmen cares about you. Zack and Ivy care about you. Amelia cares about you. You cannot turn your back on them, no matter what you learn. Do you understand?”

“No? No, I don’t?”

Shadowsan sighed. “It does not matter, anyway. You’re like Carmen. You’d throw anything away to help a friend. Even them. Be careful. We cannot lose you.”

He left Gray alone in the kitchen.

“Cool. Cool. Good talk.”

Gray swears that Amelia is the only person he’s spoken to today who hasn’t been a cryptic harbinger of his own doom.

He should talk to Zack and Ivy more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I hope this doesn't come off as Gray having a Tragic Backstory™ I mean yeah it's tragic and it's a backstory but still writing is hard.


	32. Gray, Tango Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gray demonstrates an old(?) skill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please believe that I have consumed the alkieholick beverages before.

“What do you mean, you can’t make it?” Gray stopped his regimented pummeling of the punching bag to stare at Carmen. “You promised!”

“I know.” Carmen said, apologetic, “But VILE’s making a move in Prague, and this is our only window.”

“What!? Why can’t they adhere to quarantine and stay home like the rest of us!?”

“I’m sorry.” She looked genuinely upset. “I wish I could join you guys, but I have to go.”

Gray sighed, and raised his fists again. “Amelia will be disappointed.”

“I’ve already told her.”

“Oh.”

“Make sure she doesn’t go too far overboard, okay? I don’t want any trips to the ER while we’re gone.”

“Out of all of us, I don’t think it would be Amelia who’d end up in the ER.”

“That’s fair. Zack has even less impulse control drunk than he does sober.”

“He has impulse control?”

“Yes, and she loses it when  _ she _ drinks.”   
  


Gray laughed, “I’ll keep an eye on them.”

“I know you will,” Carmen smiled, “Now, you’ve still got another set.”

Gray got to it. 

***

Amelia giggled. Leant back against the couch, she tried to down her glass, but Gray stopped her.

“Whoa, slow down there. Baby steps, Meels.”

She glared at him. “Don’t call me Meels.” 

She was what, three drinks in? Gray remembers when he was that much of a lightweight. He was about Amelia’s size then, too. He’d really shot up in between 15 and now (at least, he thought he had. Seeing Toby again for the first time in 4 years changed that  _ very _ quickly).

“Alright then, bigshot, what do you want me to call you?”

“I don’t know…” Amelia leant her head back on the couch, and laughed again. “Man, I can’t believe I missed out on shit like this for ACME. And they were so  _ bossy _ , too. ‘Ms. Diallo, you have to understand your  _ responsibilities _ … just go throw everything away to track this  _ random stranger _ ... yeah they live on the other side of the city, who cares? We’re ACME, and we give  _ zero shits _ about your wellbeing! God, they had  _ no _ sense of geography! ‘Yeah, Ms.  _ Diallo _ , go to Manly and track someone within the day, who cares if you’re from the  _ outer fucking suburbs _ . Like hey, dipshits, I’m not even in the fucking city! But we’re ACME, and we’ve clearly never looked at a map in our  _ entire _ lives!”

“Hey, is there anything about ACME that they wouldn’t want us knowing?” Ivy asked, miraculously sober sounding. “Like, I don’t know, any weaknesses that could destroy them?

Gray nudged her with his foot.

“Stop trying to wheedle stuff out of her while she’s drunk.”

“I’m not  _ that _ drunk!” Amelia exclaimed, drunk. “Anyway, I’d tell you sober. You don’t need any. They’ll fall apart on their own, just give them a little pressure.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know if you know this, but ACME agents were really stupid. Like,  _ complete  _ dumbasses, oh my God.” She laughed. “At least, the Aussie branch was. But that’s just the Australian way, y’know? I don’t know what your lot’s like.”

“The Australian way?”   
  


“Mmhm! We couldn’t organise ourselves into a line if it was drawn for us.” She said, cheerfully. 

“So why did you stay?”

“Thought it was the only way.” Amelia took another sip, “I had an end goal in mind, I thought ACME was the way to get there, if I just waited long enough. And I kinda owed them one.”

“I feel like you paid them back well enough.”

“Again, thought I was going somewhere. They were gonna make me an actual agent when I finished my work with you.  _ That _ really went well.”

“What made you leave?” Ivy asked. Gray looked at Amelia, a strange sense of foreboding forming within him. He trusted Amelia not to tell them, but he trusted that to an Amelia who wasn’t three drinks down and already loose lipped (to be fair, they  _ were _ fairly strong drinks. Amelia had an end goal in mind, and Gray was all too happy to oblige her in that regard). What if she said something?

“Gray gave me a counter offer I couldn’t refuse. A new opportunity.” Amelia said, shrugging. “That, and his roguish charm swayed me.”

Gray rolled his eyes, and smacked her lightly on the shoulder. 

“Truth or dare?” She asked, suddenly.

“What? Amelia, you’re not serious…”

“Hey, it’s my birthday, I get to pick the party games! Truth or dare?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll bite. Truth.”

“What’s with the whole ‘True blue Aussie bloke’ shtick?”

Gray sighed inwardly. He really should’ve seen this coming. He went to take another swig of his beer, but on second, smarter thought, drained what was left. 

“What do you mean?” Ivy asked. 

It was the alcohol, he knew it was the alcohol. He wouldn’t have been honest, otherwise. Of course.

“I’ve been faking half of the slang I use when I talk to you and Carmen. I don’t actually talk like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“He means, no 24 year old guy from Sydney would ever use the phrase ‘Crikey’ in normal conversation.”

“I don’t think any guy from anywhere ever uses the phrase ‘Crikey’ in normal conversation. Steve Irwin, bless his soul, is a statistical outlier, and should not have been counted.”

“So you faked it?”

He sighed, “Yes, I did.”

“Why, though?”

“People look at me when I travel and they want the Australian, they want the accent, they want the funny words and the funny phrases and the perfectly white exotica. They expect me to be that, to embody that. They want something from me, I have to provide it. All in the act, y’know? Anyway, non-Australians often find it disarming. We’re known for being easygoing, and it gets me places, if I play my cards right.”

Gray overstepped a little, there. He could tell from the fact that nobody said anything for a minute.

“Well,  _ that _ was depressing,” Amelia said, alcohol removing whatever tact that she had from her attempt to make a save. “But it’s your turn. Ask someone.”

“Alright… Zack,” The man in question raised his head, “Truth or dare?”

“Da-” Ivy elbowed him in the ribs, “Truth.”

“Weirdest fight you’ve ever been in.”

“Uhhh, I think it’s gotta be the time that I got challenged to a drunken dance off by some guys from a gang. Loser lost his kneecaps.”

Yup. He could always count on Zack to provide a distraction. 

Ivy laughed, “You were lucky I was there, you would’ve gotten thrashed.”

“Um, I would make an  _ excellent _ tango dancer, thank you very much.”

Ivy snorted.

“Ironically enough,” the alcohol’s making Gray test a  _ lot _ of waters in how much he’s willing to tell these people, “I actually know how to tango.”

“What!” Amelia had a look of maniacal glee in her eye, “Where the  _ fuck  _ did you learn that?” 

“I don’t know, I picked it up somewhere, I guess. Anyway, I barely know the basics.”

“Oh, show us, show us!” Ivy said (and Gray understood what Carmen meant about the impulse control). “Go on, Zack!”

“Wha- I- sure, I guess.” He didn’t really have a choice, Amelia was pushing and pulling him to his feet, and her training with Carmen must have been paying off, she was a lot stronger than he last remembered her being. Or maybe she was just tipsy. He didn’t know.

Zack looked as drunk as he was, that is to say, they were both drunk enough to think that this was a good idea, but still sober enough to know that this was going to end very,  _ very _ badly. 

“Okay, okay. Put your hand on my shoulder.” He took Zack’s other hand, grabbing his waist. “Now, just let me lead.”

It was more of a drag, at first, but he was able to guide Zack through the basic steps. Forward, forward, forward, side and drag. “That’s the basic gist of it.”

Zack nodded, and off they went again. Ivy whistled appreciatively. Gray turned suddenly, and Zack stumbled into him. “Sorry.”

Gray couldn’t blame him. He wasn’t exactly at peak balance, either.

However, he was surprised when, after another circuit, Zack slid down onto his front leg, very dramatically, very movie like. Gray nearly lost his balance, and in correcting himself pulled Zack up with far too much staccato, because now it looked intentional and the two of them looked competent.

Amelia whooped. Ivy wolf-whistled. Gray pretended that he meant to do that. And all bets were off after that. He didn’t really have a sense of how well they were dancing, or if they actually were dancing, he just knew that he was filled with that stupid overconfidence he got and the alcohol only brought it out further, he could do anything tonight, laughing wildly all the time. 

Zack fell into a climatic dip at the end. If music had been there, it would have crescendoed. The girls cheered. All was good, until Gray lost track of Zack’s weight, and dropped him. 

In his complete defense: 

Oops.

Amelia applauded, anyway. 

***

“Okay, time for bed, you.”

“Stop  _ mothering  _ me!” Amelia whined, as he led her upstairs. “I’m  _ fine _ .”

“Sure you are. And I’m not mothering you, you asked me to do this.”

“I didn’t ask you to chaperone me! ‘Uhh Amelia, it’s time for bed, you’re too drunk to hang out with the big kids, you can’t any more to drink, you’ll get whiney, look at me, I’m Graham, and I like to fake Australian slang and patronise my friends for fun and profit and because I’m insecuuure.”

“Amelia, your exact words were ‘Gray, make sure I pass out before I get too drunk and whiney,’ so I’m going to ignore that last part and pretend that you are showering me with gratitude over how I am taking my time to respect  _ your _ wishes.”

Amelia grumbled under her breath. They finally reached her bedroom. She’d taken some time to redecorate, there were new succulents on the windowsill and a new mess on the floor. He deposited her onto her already unmade bed, and set to work pulling the blanket over her. A question popped into his head. Now was a better time than ever. 

“Truth or dare, Amelia?”

“Hmm… truth.”

“Do you have an inferiority complex?”

Amelia sat up, “Hey, I may be drunk, but I know a psychoanalysis when I see one! What are you playing at?!”

“I’m just curious, is all.”

“How would I know?” Amelia laid back down. “It’s not like I can diagnose myself. Tell me, Dr. Gray, what are your thoughts?”

“Well, I don’t know. You’re always trying to rectify something, prove something. Why?”

“I… I don’t know.” Amelia looked up at her ceiling, “Do you ever feel like you’ve wasted your life?”

“I lost over 3 years of it, yes.”

She slapped his shoulder, or at least, she tried to, “I didn’t mean it like that, stop making this about you.”

“Sorry.”

“I guess… I don’t know, when I was a kid I pictured my adult self being this put-together and amazing. A complete force of nature, a hero. And then I got to 18 and I, well, wasn’t. When I pictured myself getting a shot at this type of life, this adventure that I’d always wanted, I’d thought I’d get it through my sheer bravery, cunning, pure talent. Like every protagonist does. Not by riding on someone else’s coattails.”

“You’re not-” Amelia held up a hand.

“It doesn’t matter. When I got here, I was supposed to be someone amazing. But I’m not. So I don’t know if I actually deserve it.”

“I don’t know, I think you’re pretty amazing.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. You’re a master of your own fate, Amelia. Very few people can say the same.”

“Say… about that…” Amelia began, “You don’t need to pretend, you know. There are people who will like you without the act…”

“You need to sleep.”

“No… stop avoiding the conversation...”

“We’ll talk about it in the morning. Now sleep.”

“Fine…”

Amelia closed her eyes, and Gray turned around. He was just about to close the door behind himself when he heard her breathing finally even out. He hoped she was enough of a lightweight to not remember much next morning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this chapter is probs gonna get gutted when I come back to it but for now I have three assignments due next week so take it as it is.


	33. Toby, and Take Two of Laboratory Infiltration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's talk of an experiment. They all want to know what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy guess who turns 18 on Thursday! Wanna get lit but I can't because I have assiiiiiignmeeeents.

Benedita leant over his shoulder as she looked at the object Toby was showing her, her hand resting just where his shoulder met his neck. Her nails were perfect, clear coated and shiny, but her perfume was darker, spicy and warm. Curls of her hair tickled his cheek, she adjusted her glasses, gold rimmed and round, as she looked at the detail on the coin that Toby was pointing out. 

“You’re right. That is inaccurate. How did you know?” She asked, her voice deep and gentle.

“I just thought, if they wanted to put an inaccuracy anywhere, it’d be here. It’s not like many of us speak Latin, do we?”

“That’s not exactly fair…”

“I don’t think they’re here to be fair.”

“Well, you’re right. This should be  _ Neroni _ , not  _ Nero _ . These coins are quite common, it’s an obvious error. A little too obvious.”

“Not all of us were historians, Benedita.”

Benedita smiled. “Student, Toby, history  _ student _ , you’re only a historian if you graduate. And even then, maybe not.”

“I don’t think anybody here cares for the difference.”

“High academia does, though.”

“Who gives a shit about high academia?”

“Not me, that’s for sure.” Benedita smiled, “I’ll show them. And, oh, the things I could learn! Everything I could ever need would be right in the palm of my hand.”

“But, don’t you think that some of the stuff you’ll find should be in museums, though?”

“First rule of history, Tobias: There are  _ way _ more things in museums that shouldn’t be than things that should. Anyway,” She lowered her voice, “What’s to say I can’t just steal it back when VILE’s done with it?”

Toby laughed. “So, do you reckon this is the fake?”

“It has to be. It-”

“Countess? We’ve found the fake.” Kolya’s voice rang out from the other team’s table. Benedita swore.

***

Classes were over for the week, and Kolya was teaching Matt how to dance. It was something traditional, something Toby didn’t know, but Matt was laughing wildly as they moved. She stumbled, falling into his shoulder, but he caught her and spun her around. They were in the boy’s dormitory, all 8 of them, enjoying the few spare hours in which they didn’t have anything to do. Their training just seemed to keep piling up on them, every moment they thought they had to breathe was soon filled by another class for them to take or task to complete. Hell, Saturday was their only day off now, even Sunday was filled with extra training. So they enjoyed every spare chance they could get to do so.

At least, most of them did.

Toby sidled up to Matthias, who was leaning against the wall, trying his best to look disinterested with the whole affair. Which was generally how Matthias spent most of the time (wall more often a requirement than not). 

“Not a dancer?” He asked. Matthias huffed, maintaining the air that he was far above such frivolities, but in a way that intended for everyone to be aware of that fact.

“I was a  _ gymnast _ , not a dancer.”

“-And I was a damn good one, too.” Toby finished. Matthias glared at him. “Why’d you stop if you care about it so much?”

“The thrill wore off, after a while. Only so good you can get, and I stopped seeing the point after that.”

“Well, it’s hard to see the point in anything if you’re too busy being superior to everyone else.”

“There’s an implication there that it takes effort.” There’s sly wit in Matthia’s voice, but there’s sly wit in everything he does. Poised, graceful, it’s admirable. But Toby elbows him in the ribs anyway, and Matthias covers his mouth as he laughs, because heaven forbid anybody think he’s capable of expressing a positive emotion.

“Shut up. Seriously, though, stop acting like you’re so high and mighty. We all know you secretly love us.” 

“I tolerate you. Barely.”

“Sure you do.”

Matthias nodded his head towards a corner of the room. “Rosa looks lonely, go and bother her.”

Toby smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “You should try being less of an asshole sometime, you may find it’s what you need.”

“Yeah, yeah, screw you.” The corners of Matthias’ mouth quirked up in what could have been a smile, had he allowed it.

Toby moved around to where Rosalind was watching from one of the couches, poised like a rich lady rejected, holding far too much dignity in the curve of her neck.

“Can I join you?”

Rosalind nodded, but there was very minimal movement in her head.

“You should be careful,” He said, sitting down across from her, “I don’t know how long it’s going to be before Matt ropes you into whatever she’s doing, and I can’t stop her if she does.”   
  


Rosalind laughed, but it was controlled, like she was intentionally holding herself back.

“Sometimes I swear she’s still secretly trying to get revenge on me.” She said.

“She’s not, she’s really just like that.”

“I wouldn’t blame her if she was.” 

Toby raised an eyebrow, “Why not?”

Rosalind shifted in her seat, very subtly, but still notable enough to him, “I nearly did something very stupid, and it would have ruined her, had I gone through with it.”

“What is it?”

Rosalind looked him dead in the eye, her gaze holding him in place. “You have to promise you won’t tell her.”

“Cross my heart.”

“I meant for her to find the doll. The moment I saw the picture in there I knew she would want it. I was going to wait until she took it and then report it. Them knowing she saw the picture might be enough to make her a liability. I pulled out at the last minute.”

“Why?”   
  
“Well, she grew on me, after a while.” She said, more to herself than anything, “It was strange, I’m not used to backing down.”

“So, when you broke into Dr. Bellum’s lab, you did it to plant evidence on Matt?” His voice is low, and he imagines he sounds more dangerous than he intends, because on one hand it was Matt she was threatening, but on the other, Matt would’ve done the same to her had she been given the chance, back then. Toby loved Matt, but there were very few other people in his life who could be as cruel as she was, when she wanted to be.

“No! No,” Rosalind insists, “That was pure coincidence, I didn’t think to do it until after I found the doll. How did you know I was even there?”   
  


“Because I saw you there. Me and the guys snuck out same night you did. Why  _ were  _ you there, then?”

“I wanted anything I could use as leverage.” Rosalind lowers her voice, “You’re not the only ones with reason to investigate.”

“What do you mean?”

“People pay attention to us. More than they should. You’ve seen the way the other operatives look at us. There’s something about us that makes us different from the others, and I want to know what.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“The same way I knew that Matt would show you the doll. I know people. I know what they’re going to do. I know how they act. And I know when they’re hiding something. It’s how I knew that Matt would snoop through my room in the first place. And I was right, there is something special about us. Or, about you two, at least.”

“We still don’t have answers on that one. I have no clue why the picture was in there, or why we were even recruited at all.”

“And there’s the fact that Matt’s completely unpredictable.”

“Not really. You just have to get to know her.”

“But that’s the thing, I  _ always _ know people. Matt never seemed like the type to apologise, I wasn’t counting on that. And I wasn’t expecting either of you to tell everyone about the picture.”

Toby shrugged, “The boys wanted to know what you took from the lab. I promised I’d find out, and I told them the truth. Nothing special about it.”

“Surely you want to know what that picture means, though? Don’t you want to find out?”

“It’s been 3 months. If we wanted to know we would’ve done something about it by now.”

Rosalind nodded, “That’s fair, I guess.” 

“Oh, one more thing,” He told her. She raised an eyebrow, “I asked Matt to apologise to you.”

“What?” She looked confused, “Why?”

“I needed her to get close to you so she could take the doll. The only way she could do that was if you two made up. She went in there with the intention of getting that doll.”

“Wait,  _ you _ put her up to that?”

“Yup.”

“But… I…”

“You don’t always know people as well as you think, Rosa.” He said, “You’re a person, not a narrator, you’re not omniscient.”   
  


“But that’s what I do,” Rosalind said, defiant. “I  _ know  _ people.” 

Toby smiled, “Then you’ll know that right now Matt is barreling towards us with an evil look in her eye and a mind full of twisted intentions?”

Rosalind didn’t have time to turn around before she was upon them.

***

Toby woke up the next morning just as tired, if not even more so, than when he went to bed. They’d turned in late, and Toby’d woken up early, so it was an effort to keep his eyes open long enough. But what kept him going was a sense of foreboding that came with having forgotten something, something of enough importance that its recollection, undeniably occurring too late, would send a rush of horror into his stomach, even if there was nothing  _ actually _ occurring. In his teenage years it would’ve been a regular occurrence, but now it was enough to give him pause. 

Then he realised. It was Bertie’s birthday today.

And there was that rush.

How could he have forgotten? He would never have forgotten had he not been here, how could you forget something that important? She was 13 today, 13, it was only two weeks after his, and it had slipped from Toby’s memory like silk through his fingers. If he hadn’t caught on to the knot at the end…

It sat with Toby all the way to breakfast, and even then beyond that. In every single version of Bertie’s life his mind had ever supplied him, he had been there, he had seen it happen, he had been by her side and now he wasn’t. Now he wasn’t, he was gone from her life, vanished, and she’d never even know why. 13 years old and already having the unanswered question that he’d undoubtedly become hanging over her, she’d never have the chance to grieve, she’d never get that funeral and the honours that Toby had hoped that his death would bring one day. 

No, she was stuck with the dreaded second option, the question eternally unanswered, except he had to bear it as well, because, in a surprising twist of fate, he was very much  _ alive _ . And all it had taken was one moment. One decision. How could he have not seen this one destruction? 

One choice.

No.

Wait.

Was that all it was? Did all this begin back in that ballroom? Or was it just the tipping point disguised as free will?

No, no, now Toby can trace it back, trace it all back, through every single pinnacle reached, every single threshold crossed, every single question answered unthinkingly, every single word said without knowledge of the consequences. It can all be traced back to a conversation over a bag of chips in his best friend's apartment. It can all be traced back to Gray. 

Gray and his stupid, stupid ideas.

But can Toby really blame him? Can he really, in good faith say it was Gray’s fault, when Gray had given him every single opportunity to back out? No, there was not a moment when Gray had forced his hand, but… still. Toby couldn’t deny the fact that Gray held control over him with gossamer thread, spider silk felt but never seen, neither of them understood it but they both knew it was there; Toby would go wherever Gray commanded him to. And they both knew it.

Was that Gray’s fault, though? Could he really be held completely and utterly accountable for the situation that they’d found themselves in? Gray had never asked for Toby’s devotion, never sought him out with that intention, or any intention, just that Gray had seen something in Toby, something he himself never saw. But Toby had put everything onto Gray, had made him the one respite from a desperate father and a raging mother, from having insult seen in his every action. He had seen Gray as the one person who got it, the one who could see the grace in which his mother carried her facade for what it was. But there was no way Gray could have carried that weight without consequence. 

And this… thread of theirs? 

That was the consequence.

Toby wasn’t paying attention to where he was going, so it really shouldn’t have been a surprise when he walked straight into someone in the hallways. 

“Hey, watch it!” It was one of the operatives, they were in a group, but he didn’t even look up to face them.

“Sorry.” He kept walking, feeling three sets of eyes boring into his back, piercing, but still he ignored them. His first thought was to find Matt, she’d be the only person who’d really understand, she was the only person who’d met Bertie, but did he really want to bother her with his problems?

Well… yes. Yes he did. 

Then again, he also wanted to curl up in bed for the rest of the day and cry. Maybe take a nap.  _ Definitely  _ take a nap. But he knew talking to Matt would help in the long run, and he knew she’d want to hear it, at least, he hoped she’d want to hear it. She was with Benedita and Michiko in the library today, maybe he should wait? It’s hard to think in this haze he’s in, maybe it’s a better idea to talk to her now before it gets worse. He began to walk towards the library, but changed his mind. 

He’d have plenty of time to talk to her later, best not interrupt her now. She’s not available for his every whim.

He wanted to go back to his room, he could’ve just turned back and retrace his steps, but he knew a shortcut that’ll get him where he needs to go with far fewer potential bump-ins with the operatives. Being stuck in this place for nearly seven months now has given him one distinct edge over his superiors, he knows it like the back of his hand.

“...I think you’re being too hasty, Bellum. Give it time. He may make a reappearance.” 

Toby stopped. He really didn’t want an altercation with the Faculty as well.

“That’s rather easy for you to say, you’ve got  _ your _ experiment all nicely tied up here.”

“Need I remind you, Doctor, that your duty to the Faculty is more important than your  _ experiments _ .” Countess Cleo said the word like she found it objectively distasteful, “Your main job was to get rid of him, this hypothesis you’ve been testing is a privilege, nothing more.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child, Countess.”

“Then stop acting like one.”

Toby didn’t know what compelled him to follow them, all he knew was that this was a  _ terrible _ decision, and if he had any sanity left he’d turn back and pretend none of this ever happened. But maybe his emotional state is lowering his inhibitions. Maybe it’s let his curiosity win. 

Just once.

Anyway, he’s got a gift for staying unseen. If Gray can be thanked for anything, it’s pointing that out to him. He gave the two women enough time to move to the limits of his earshot, near the end of the hallway, before he padded off after them. 

“You’ll be singing a different tune when I inevitably get results.”

“You won’t be getting any results with your experiment currently missing. Regardless, we’ve cut his legs out from underneath him, you heard the reports, he was a mess. And now he’s gone. It shouldn’t take a scientist like you to figure out what happened.”

It didn’t. Jesus. 

“Oh? And what of Lorikeet’s report?”

“What of it? Her description was nonsensical, and even if it was him, there’s no proof backing up her claim. We checked, remember? On your command.” Cleo sounded distinctively smug. Toby waited for them to turn another corner before moving down the hallway, his feet brushing closer to the floor to keep as quiet as possible.

“I do.” Came the petulant reply.

“Then you’ll know that there’s no record of him anywhere. After all, that  _ is _ why you're concerned, no?”

“People don’t just  _ disappear _ , Cleo, if I can move to the next stage of testing, this might still pay us dividends.”

“How, Bellum? You have no clue where he is. There’s no proof he’s even still alive. Regardless, the threat’s neutralised. Your experiment was a failure. Perhaps it’s best that you let this go and wait for a better subject.”

“Really? And what about our ‘esteemed student’? Have you checked for  _ her _ ?” The emphasis was enough to give him pause. 

“It’s been three months. He hasn’t been seen. Even alongside  _ her _ entourage.”

“That doesn’t deny the possibility.”

There was a pause, long enough for Toby to stop.

“It does not.” Cleo said, eventually.

“So you agree?” Bellum sounded surprised. 

“I don’t  _ disagree _ , per se. But would it not be worse for you if it  _ was  _ the case?”

“On the contrary, Countess, it would give us a very advantageous position. We’d just need to find a way to, well, fire long range, so to speak.”

“Alright, then, if you really believe you still have a chance to salvage this, show me what your plan is.”

“Certainly, Countess, that is why you’re here, is it not?”

The doors of Dr. Bellum’s lab slid shut behind them, and Toby knew he could not go any further. 

At least, not right now. 

But this time he did retrace his steps, heading straight for the library. If they were talking about what he thought they were talking about, Matt was going to want to hear this one.

***

“What do you think it means?” Michiko asked, in an undertone. She had a way around language that could keep details omitted but meanings communicated. She’d told them it came from a life of keeping other people’s secrets, she’d always been a lover of good intrigue.

“I don’t know. They kept talking about an experiment, but the experiment was a person.”

“And you think it was  _ someone _ we knew?” Matt asked, her emphasis enough to tell everyone who she was talking about. “You wouldn’t have come and told us, otherwise.”

“If it was, Cleo was insistent that he was dead, and I don’t want to think about that possibility.”

Matt’s face fell.

“They did not know that for sure, though.” Michiko pointed out, “We shouldn’t make a claim if there is no evidence to support it.”

“Cleo seemed pretty sure of it. And even if he is alive, he’s gone. They don’t know where he is.”

“Yes, but you don’t know that they were even talking about him,” Benedita said, “And even if they were, you said that Cleo was distasteful of Bellum’s plans. What’s to say that she was just saying that to get Bellum to drop it?”

“But if they are talking about him, then what do they mean by experiment?” Matt’s voice was a murmur. “What are they doing to him?”

“It’s gotta be something to do with his memories, it has to be.” Toby replied, “It’s the only explanation.”

“But what?” Benedita asked.

“Do you think they wiped his memories to experiment on him?” Matt asked.

“There is a lot of variable in that.” Michiko said, “I cannot say I know a lot about your friend’s situation, but I feel it would be a strange way to experiment on someone. To take three years of his memory and just leave him.”

“Unless they’re planning on experimenting on him in the future,” Benedita mused, “But even so, why him? And why would VILE even care that much? We don’t take things that have no value.”

“We have reason to believe that he might have crossed paths with VILE before.” Toby and Matt had never told the rest of the group about Carmen, they didn’t know for sure if she was involved, and even if she was they had no intention of telling the rest of the trainees that they had an enemy with the ability to wipe three years of memory gunning for them.

“How do you know?”

“He met someone who seemed to know him in the time before his memory got wiped. We have reason to believe that they might have butted heads with VILE.”

“But do you have any proof?” Benedita asked.

“Nothing beyond our own personal theories.”

“Then you can’t say for sure they were involved. We’re all just making claims without anything to base them off.”

“But they were talking about some ‘esteemed student.’ We still don’t know what they meant by that.”

“You don’t think it was  _ her _ , do you?”   
  


“Who?” Benedita asked.

“No, she doesn’t seem like the type who’d ever study here. And even if it was, they said he hadn’t been seen with them.”

“So what? Operatives all over the world and they can’t track down one person? He’s not exactly  _ elusive _ , Toby.”

“What I think we need,” Michiko said, her voice then lowering even further, “Is for someone to go and see what was being shown, if you understand me. I think you might find some answers, there.”

“Like, the lab?” Matt whispered. “How would we even get in?”   
  


“I have a way.” Toby told them, “Remember, Matt? It won’t the first time I’ve broken in there.”

***

“I’d be happy to tell you how to look for oil on the buttons, if you want.” Kolya said, as he, Toby, and Matt crept through the moonlit hallways. Toby was reminded quite vividly of how a night like this kicked off this whole affair. This was it, wasn’t it? The final piece of the puzzle, the last thread to tie before every mystery from Sydney had departed him. But what now? What if the question didn’t have an answer? What if the answer was worse? 

“I’d like that.” He replied, “But thanks for doing this, regardless. You didn’t have to.”

Regardless, he had to find out. He owed Gray that much, at least.

“Anytime.” Kolya smiled at him in a way that made it seem like sunlight was born from his skin, it highlighted the prominent gap in his front teeth and the dimple in his right cheek, they seemed to glow, even at midnight. If someone had set Toby aside and told him that Kolya was some secret pagan god of some harvest or some prosperity, Toby would have believed them instantaneously. 

“Where did you learn how to do it? To spot the oil.” Matt asked. 

“Spot?”

“Find. Look for, I mean.”

“Oh, right! One of my friends told me about it, and I learnt to look for them myself.”

“You must have a keen eye. I mean, you must be really good at finding stuff.”

“You have to be. You have to have a keen eye, if I’m saying that right, when you paint as much as I do. And with the  _ things _ that I paint, and have painted, it is  _ very _ necessary.”

“Do you ever paint anything else? Outside of your job, I mean.” Matt asked.

“Lots of things! Dolls, pictures, bedroom walls, about 250 works currently on display in the Hermitage, murals, all sorts of stuff.”

“I said  _ outside _ of your job, Kolya, now you’re just showing off.” Matt rolled her eyes. Toby turned to stare at Kolya.

“Wait, two hundred and fifty? You never said how many!”

“I don’t know  _ exactly  _ the number, but yes.”

“And, sorry, you’re  _ how _ old?” Toby asked

“Seventeen.” Kolya replied, cheerily. 

“You can’t even drink yet!” Toby said, “How the hell did you pull that off?!”

“Uh… complicated story. But I was good at what I did. All I needed were the right paints and the right brushes.” 

“We’re here.” Matt said, pointing to the shut doors in front of them. “Do your thing, Kolya.”

Kolya knelt down to meet eye to eye with the keypad. “Torch.” 

Toby shone it. Kolya didn’t move immediately, still staring at the keys. Then, a tentative hand reached out and pressed a number, nervously.

“You good?”

“I’m good. Give me time.”

Slowly, he pressed another number, but with a little more confidence. There were three digits left, now two, as Kolya took another gamble.

“Hey,” Matt whispered to him, “Doesn’t Bellum normally wear gloves?”

Toby was about to reply, but was cut off by the doors sliding open in front of him. “Guess she must take them off for putting the password in.”

“Weird.” She replied, as the three of them headed in. 

“So, where would Bellum keep records of her experiments?” His voice echoed through the empty room. There was the strangest, flat feeling in his chest as he looked at the desks that they usually sat at. But now he looked to the doors around the room, each one leading to a different lab. There was the one they’d found open, the last time they were here, but tonight it was shut tight. They were alone.

“Her private lab, probably. Her  _ private, _ private lab. The one behind her desk”

“Should I keep watch while you guys find evidence?” Kolya asked, but Toby was quickly approaching the one locked door that they were  _ absolutely _ barred from entering.

“No, we might need you again.” He said, looking at it. The door was sleek, shiny, and absolutely shut. Toby was careful not to touch it, he was wearing gloves, sure, but he didn’t know what sort of security she had on it. There was no sign of a key, there was what looked like a camera right beside the door, and it didn’t take Toby too long to figure out what it was. 

He swore.

“What?” Matt asked, her and Kolya hurrying to join him.

“It’s a fucking retinal scanner.”

“A what?” Kolya asked.

“Something that scans your eye to let you in. And we don’t have her eye.”

“How do we get it?”   
  


“Well, I get the feeling that she’d notice if we tried to take it from her, so that’s off the table.”

“Great, excellent!” Matt began, “I just love getting so close only to be stopped by a  _ fucking door _ !”

“Maybe there’s another way.” Kolya said, “Through the other labs.”

“And how do we get into  _ those _ ?”

“If Rosa could do it...”

“But we don’t  _ have _ Rosa. So unless you want to go back and get her, we’re back to square one! Great!

“Matt, keep your voice dow-”

“You three  _ really _ shouldn’t be here.”

Kolya nearly screamed. Matt froze in place as the fourth, distinctly unfamiliar voice decided to join their conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dr Bellum's Lab: *exists*
> 
> Literally Everyone and Their Dog: It's Free Real Estate


	34. Toby, And Take Two of Failed Laboratory Infiltration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An ultimatum is presented, information is traded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hnghgh so many assignments I'm going to have a crisis. And by so many I mean like two but they're both really important and due in this week ahhhh!

All Toby could hear was his heartbeat, deep and loud and long, like an archaic drum. He knew how quickly the three of them turned around, he could pick it up from the way he felt Matt’s hair against his arm, but the sheer fear that gripped him stretched out those few seconds of movement into what felt like centuries. 

But he did, eventually, come face to face with the operative, who was smirking like she was less than a second away from absolutely ending them. 

And it was Paper Star. He recognised her now.

“I can’t say Dr. Bellum will be happy to learn that her students are skulking around her labs at night.”

“She’s a teacher at a school for thieves, what does she expect?” Matt asked.

“Respect.” Paper Star responded, “She won’t be happy when I tell her, but it is my  _ duty _ , after all.”

“What do you want?” Toby asked, “I’m assuming you’re alluding to the fact that your silence can be bought.”

“You shouldn’t be so forward, Mr. No-Codename, you are in no position to be offending your superiors. But yes, you are correct, I can propose a  _ trade _ , per se. For a certain…  _ favour _ , I will agree to keep silent about your little trespass. Dr. Bellum won’t know a thing.”

“If Dr. Bellum does not want people in her lab, then she should just not have terrible security.” Kolya piped up. Everyone turned to look at him. “If a seventeen year old art forger can break in here, that’s a her problem. It’s not our fault the genius scientist at the school for thieves thinks a keycode is enough to keep the students at the same school for thieves out. I mean, look at me, I can’t even  _ drink _ yet.”

“Ok, damn, go off,” Matt said. Toby nudged her to be quiet.

Paper Star gave Kolya a quizzical look for a brief moment, but a smile quickly spread over her face.

“And who might  _ you _ be?” she asked, and there was an incredibly sweet venom in her voice. But Kolya didn’t succumb to it, he either didn’t hear it or didn’t care for it, all five foot six inches of angry little Russian art forger stood tall to face her.

“My name is Romashka,” he said. Toby whipped around to stare at him, he felt Matt doing the same as well, but Kolya didn’t offer them explanation. Paper Star was looking incredibly poisonous, though, even if she was still smiling, and Toby knew that he’d have to wrap this up soon.

“Regardless, what would you have us do if we agreed to your terms?”

“Well, see, I have a few questions for the three of you. Should you answer them to the…  _ best _ of your ability, I’ll be willing to forget this little meeting ever happened.”

“And if we don’t?” Matt asked.

“Then let’s just say you owe me a favour, hm? We can discuss details when the time is right.”

Were they in any position to negotiate? Paper Star knew the moment she caught them in here that she had the upper hand, Toby realised. He looked at Matt, trying to decide what to do, and she gave him an imperceptible nod. 

“We’ll answer your questions,” She said, suddenly, to Paper Star, “but on one condition.”

“Oh?”

“Nothing we say can reach the Faculty. Not through you or anybody else.”

“And why should I promise you that? What’s to say I won’t tell them anyway?”

“Your word is your bond, that’s all I ask. If you don’t like what we say you can still cash in the favour.”

“Hmph.” Paper Star rolled her bottom lip beneath her thumb, considering it, “Fine. Whatever you say won’t go to the Faculty, not by me or through me.”

“Then we accept your terms. Ask us anything.” Matt said. Toby realised that he had angled himself just between her and Paper Star, and quickly corrected.

“Why are you so interested to know about Dr. Bellum’s experiments?” Paper Star asked. The three of them looked at each other, Toby knew they all had a different route they were willing to take, but they needed to answer cohesively, or Paper Star would never accept it. But why were they looking to him? He could lie, but what if Paper Star picked up on it? What if he told the truth and Paper Star told the Faculty? How much of her word could be trusted? And why was it left to him to figure her out?

It didn’t matter, he had to make the call, but what to do? What to do?

“I… overheard a conversation between Bellum and Cleo,” He keeps his voice impassive, his face impassive, if they’re looking at him to be the leader, he has to act like the leader, and that means learning how to play a part. Anyway, it’s technically true, “I was curious to know what the experiment was.”

“Oh? Then what was this  _ evidence _ you were talking about?”

Kolya’s eyes went wide. Toby scrabbled for an answer that would satiate her.

“Remember, I can still turn to the Faculty~.”

“We had a theory on who the test subject of the experiment was. We wanted to find out for ourselves.”

“Why? Who did you think it was?”   
  


“Because… uh…” He’s slipping. Godamnit, why is he slipping? He’s supposed to have an answer for everything, he’s supposed to keep up the act.

“Because Bellum said that the subject was missing.” Matt interjected, “We thought we might be able to figure out where they were, we just needed to know who they were.”

“So you know them?”

“No! No, not at all!” Matt insisted, “We just-”

Toby saw Paper Star’s eyes go wide for just a moment, a flicker, like a camera shutter clicking, gone before he could register it.

“I thought that if we found the subject then Dr. Bellum would like us.” Kolya quickly cut in, but Paper Star didn’t acknowledge him, she was looking at Toby.

“Where did you say you were from, again?” She asked.

“We didn’t.” He replied.

“Hm. Of course. But you  _ are _ Australian, no? Where?”

“We can’t tell you that, remem-”

“Oh, Dr. Bellum~!” Paper Star said, sing-song.

“Sydney.” Matt said, shortly. “We’re both from Sydney. Are you happy?”   
  


There was that flicker again. It was almost imperceptible, but Toby saw it, before Paper Star’s saccharine smile returned again.

“Very.”

“Is that everything?” Matt demanded, “Because being interrogated by Cruella de Ville’s scene phase is rather tiring, so if it’s alright with you, I’d like to go back to bed.”

“Hm, yes,” Paper Star sounding pensive and vacant, her thumb tracing her bottom lip, “Yes, fine.”

And that was how they left her, in every hurry, but Toby turned back to see her staring at the same door they had just been caught in front of.

As the lab doors closed behind them, he heard her giggle.

“So…” Matt began, “Romashka?”

“It’s a flower, I don’t know the English word for it, but my favourite tea’s made from them.”

“So that’s your codename?”

“I’m going to wait until everyone has theirs. I just didn’t want the mean lady to think I was scared of her.”

“You can call her a bitch, if you like. That’s a good word you can use.”

“Matt, no.”

“Do you think she’s going to tell?” Matt asked him.

“I don’t know. She promised not to.”

“She’s not one of the people who keeps her word.” Kolya said, “I know liars, I am one.”

“How fucked do you think we are?” Matt asked.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think it’s good.”

“I think it’s a bad idea to spend too long owing her something.” Kolya said.

“So, she’s going to be lording this over our heads, great.” Matt sighed.

“For what, six months?” Toby argued, “Nobody’s going to give a shit that we broke into her labs when we’re operatives. And what would she need from three students? All she wanted was information, she just used the threat of eventual repayment to ensure we answered honestly. She only had the threat of telling the Faculty, if she let us go and later on found out we lied when she had nothing to hold against us, she loses. She’s not going to lord this over our heads, she just wanted the upper hand,” He sighed, “And we gave it to her.”

“This just keeps getting better and better,” Matt said. Kolya patted her shoulder comfortingly. 

“What’s the worst that’ll happen if she tells them? Detention? Cleaning duty for a week? It won’t be so bad. We shouldn’t play into her hands.”

“But she knows that we were there to find evidence on the experiment,” Toby said, “Dr. Bellum might move on if we break in, but if she finds out we were trying to snoop on her experiments, we’re fucked.”

Kolya didn’t respond immediately, Toby had the sense he was running over his words carefully, even more so than his internal translator required of him. 

“You really believe it’s your friend, don’t you?” He said.

“I… don’t know.” And he didn’t want to know. He wished he could run from this, run back to his bed and his new life and never have to think about the fact that his best friend may be in danger, that the organisation that Toby now worked for may be the ones throwing him into mortal peril. That Toby had known that there was someone else who was so obviously a threat that he should’ve seen it from a mile off, and yet he had ignored it. He had abandoned Gray to this pit of vipers, and now he was gone. He wished he never heard that conversation between Bellum and Cleo. 

But he had to know, because he’d do anything for Gray. 

Wouldn’t he?

They left Matt at the doors to the dormitories, looking upset. He gave her a quick hug, and followed Kolya upstairs.

The living room of the boys dormitory was dark, but a couple of the kitchen lights had been left on. Chae-Min was sitting on one of the counters, holding a mug in both hands.

“You two are back! Did you find anything?” He smiled as they came in.

“We couldn’t get in.” Kolya said, “She had a ‘retnal scanner’ on the door.”

“A ret _ in _ al scanner,” Toby corrected, “We couldn’t get in unless we scanned her eye at the door. And we got caught.”

“What? Not by Dr. Bellum, was it?”

“No. By Paper Star. She’s an operative.”

“Does she wear a jacket? A yellow one? Spikes?”

“You know her?”

“I saw her.” Chae-Min told him, “Talking to Rosalind, some days ago.”

“What about?” Toby asked. Kolya looked at him, surprised by his hurried tone, “Did you hear anything?”

“No, I was only nearby. But Rosalind rebuked her very quickly, she was  _ not _ happy. It didn’t seem to bother the girl, Paper Star, at all, though.”

“Toby, what does that mean?” Kolya asked. “Why is she talking to Rosa, what does it matter?”

“It means that it wasn’t a coincidence she was in the labs tonight, she’s been following this just as much as we have, no, she’s been following  _ us _ . Just, why, though?”

“What does she have to gain from following you?” Chae-Min asked, “Unless, this is about Graham.”

“Why would Paper Star want to know about Gray? What does she have to gain from any of this?” 

Chae-Min shrugged, “I can’t say.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kolya stifle a yawn.

“We should go to bed, it’s late. We can figure it out in the morning.”

“Hm, oh, no, I’m not tired, I’m fine.” Kolya said, tiredly.

“No you’re not, come on. I need some time to think, anyway.” The three of them headed upstairs, Toby preparing for another sleepless night.

“Try to save some thought for the morning, ok?” Chae-Min said, by way of farewell, Toby nodded, and climbed upstairs.

He’d had enough thought to last him a lifetime, with some to spare.

***

Toby went down to breakfast the next morning with the slightest sense of unease budding inside of him. He chalked up to sleep deprivation related anxiety, regular anxiety’s stoner cousin, always paired with a far greater sense of delirium.

When he walked into the cafeteria, he realised that he’d given stoner cousin anxiety unfair dues. Paper Star was sitting on one of the tables, talking to another operative. Her eyes flicked over to him, and her smile widened, and Toby realised it wasn’t stoner cousin anxiety he had been experiencing.

It was demonic prophecy anxiety. The vaguely criminal one of the anxiety cousins.

The operative Paper Star was talking had obviously followed her gaze. She was platinum blonde and not at all happy to be here, or maybe that was just her face. Regardless, she turned around to look, and locked eyes with Toby.

Her sculpted eyebrows furrowed, her gaze pierced through him, it was deeper than an analysis, there were no questions in it, Toby felt himself being demanded to her, she wasn’t asking for any part of him, but he was expected to offer it up. He looked down, not wanting anymore attention from anyone Paper Star was interacting with, but he still felt her gaze bore into him.

It filled him with a sense of foreboding that didn’t leave him all day. 

He knew that, whatever this was, it was far from over. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a codename for Toby but it's another fucking bird so I am unsure.
> 
> Also Romashka is the Russian word for chamomile and it's kind of stupid but I think it fits his character.


	35. The Timtams and Tutus Caper, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gray and Carmen go on a mission together. Wacky hijinks ensue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hng ok I'm sorry it's late and not great but on the plus side I handed in one of my major projects! I'm so glad it's done and it absolutely drained me, but I'm pretty ok with how it turned out! On the down side, I have major exams coming up so hgngngngn wish me luck.
> 
> Also this chapter was originally called Gray: Adored Assistant, which showed up in my outline as Gray: Adored Ass and I'm very sad about the fact that I had to change it.

“I’ve never actually been to Brisbane before, there’s not a lot I can help you with,” Gray said, looking around him as he walked. 

“Have you ever considered that I take you on missions for reasons other than your electrical expertise or geographical location?” Carmen replied. She was wearing her red hoodie today, even if Queensland was far warmer than Gray’s home state, it was still warranted. And it sheltered her from the rain.

“No, because you don’t.”

“Well, maybe I just want the company, this time.”

“I thought we were only allowed to leave on ‘essential missions?’ For ‘essential reasons?’”

“Oh, so you want me to call Amelia and tell her she can’t see her family anymore because it’s not essential?” Carmen gave him a knowing smirk.

“That wasn’t what I meant and you are very aware of that.”

“Does it matter? We rarely get to spend time together, anyway.”

“The last time I suggested spending time together, you stood me up.”

“I didn’t stand you up, I was late.”

“Yeah. 5 months late.” 

Carmen laughed. Gray pulled his raincoat tighter around himself, it was a dark purple, patterned with video game controllers. Even the largest size had been too tight around the shoulders when he had bought it, but Toby had pulled his tailoring magic to make it fit quite comfortably. The rain itself was light but constant, the clouds combined with the sunset created a dull golden hue that saturated the grass and concrete around him. But they were growing heavier, and Gray knew the rain would follow suit soon. He pulled his hood up. 

They were walking along the river, a slate grey line dotted with slow moving riverboats and faster, gliding citycats, far more set in their destination. Their left side led to the parks, dense trees and green grass, all brightened and deepened by the rain, smelling like fresh rain and fresh earth and worn people. The footpaths were wide, and not deserted, but Gray knew they would be much more crowded at a better time, in better weather. He liked weather like this, there was something so incredibly comfortable in it, in the idea that the sky had closed in, that it had covered him, held him and everyone else in, like a snowglobe. It was a comfort.

“So, what exactly are we doing here, again?” He asked, because he’d been given the broad strokes of it (antique ballet costumes plus VILE operatives equals a caper in the making), but what they were doing wandering aimlessly through Brisbane City? 

“Well, we have some time to kill. Can’t exactly hatch a heist in broad daylight. I thought we’d take a look around.”

“Shame there’s not a lot to do. The borders only opened up a couple of weeks ago.”

“They were closed?”   
  


“Yeah. I get updates on the situation here. But it’s still pretty tense.”

“Well it’s better than the situation back home. I feel bad for leaving Zack and Ivy stuck in the house, but I can’t risk anyone getting sick.”

Gray knew how much the lockdown, and Carmen’s imposed quarantine, was grating on the two of them. At this moment, Shadowsan was the singular barrier between the two of them and a murder being committed. 

“Hey, next time, just say you need to ‘hang out’ with them, and they’ll miraculously avoid the virus!”

Carmen playfully slapped him on the arm. 

“I better not be hearing insubordination from you, Graham. I can still take you off this mission.”

“In which case I’ll call Amelia to tell her to get me back on it.”

Another slap.

“I’m surprised you haven’t been here before,” Carmen said. They’d climbed a set of stairs, and found themselves wandering through a tunnel made of wires and deep purple flowers, “It’s really pretty.”

“I never really had a need to. But I think Matt grew up nearby, actually.”

“Did she? I thought you said she came from Melbourne?”

“She did. But she grew up about a two hour drive from here. A place called Byron Bay. It’s quite well known here.”

“How’d she end up in Melbourne, then?”

“I don’t know, she never told us. I think it was for school, because her parents are still in Byron.”

Carmen, looked at him from under her hood, “You don’t actually know a lot about her, do you?”

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, as much as she means to you, there’s a lot about her that you don’t know.”

“What? I know heaps of things about her.”

“Okay, why would she, only a teenager at the time, move to a big city in a completely different state without her parents?”

“It’s like I said, it was probably for some boarding school or something!”

“What school? What school is worth going that far, alone, for? And then, why come to Sydney?”

“For uni! That’s not that odd!”

“Do you even know what she studied!?”

“It’s not like I never asked! She just…” Gray trailed off, realising how it sounded. It felt like there was something serpentine in his chest, writhing and slimy. He didn’t want this conversation to continue.

“Never told you?” Carmen finished for him. Her voice was cloyingly pitying, like clotted blood.

“What are you trying to say, Carmen?” He’s trying to control his temper, but he can hear it in the emphases of his words, he should be able to hide it but he can’t, “That she’s untrustworthy because she didn’t tell me every single detail about her past? That our friendship’s worth shit because I can’t regale you with her life story?”

“No! No, nothing like that! I’m just saying, be careful. Maybe you don’t know her as well as you think you do.”

“Well it’s not like I’m going to get to know her more now. So just keep reminding me of that, why don’t you? Really just rub salt in the fucking wound.”

“Hey.” Carmen stopped walking, “You don’t talk to me like that. I am trying to help you.”

She was right. His anger receded back into his chest like a skittered animal. To rest, recuperate. The guilt flooded into its place, as always. There was something so cyclical in the way this happened, like a tide: push, pull. Anger, guilt. He said he had control over it, but the waves kept coming. This couldn’t be the place where he permanently lost his grip on himself, could it? 

“I’m sorry.”

“I thought we talked about this. I  _ get  _ that you’re angry, you’re upset, you’re lost, whatever, but you need to get a grip on yourself. You need to work through whatever you’ve got going on, and stop taking them out on everyone else.”

“Yeah, I know. Just... she was my friend.”

“She  _ is  _ your friend. She’s not gone, we’ll find her.”

“How do you know that, though?” He asked, “It’s been 8 months, Toby’s 22nd birthday was a month ago, and we have nothing. How can you still be so optimistic?”

“Look, I know how it feels to keep looking for someone-”

“How? How do you know?”

“Because I’ve been searching for my mother since last November.”

Well shit. If there was anything to shut him up, it sure as fucking hell was  _ that _ .

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s where I’ve been going on all those missions with Shadowsan. It’s been months and we still have no clue where she is.”

“I’m guessing your father isn’t in the picture?”

“He died when I was a baby.”

This just kept getting better and better, didn’t it?

“Oh… again… I’m sorry. Wait, then who raised yo-”

“What about your parents?” Carmen asked, “You’ve never really talked about them before.”

“Ah, well, they moved to the States sometime in my lost years. Minneapolis.”

“Really? You could’ve gone to see them at any time, I wouldn’t have stopped you.”

“Well, it’s not exactly  _ close _ , is it?”

“Still. If you ever want to make the trip, once the whole COVID situation clears up.”

“Hm… maybe. I don’t know, it’s complicated.”

“You’re not exactly close to them, are you?”

“I mean, I love them, I do, but… I don’t know, it’s difficult to explain.”

“You love them, but you make no effort to see them or ever talk about them?”

“Well, it’s just…”

“It’s ok to admit that you don’t have the best relationship with your family. Trust me, I am the last person to judge.”

“No, that’s not it! They were good parents, they raised me well, I’m incredibly grateful, but…” 

“But you’re so used to just saying they’re good parents and that you love them that you don’t actually know whether it’s true or not. I know how to spot that in someone.”

“I - uh - I- How?”

“If I learnt anything growing up, it’s that when you’ve been taught something ad nauseum, you teach yourself to believe it, regardless of what you actually think. So, deep down, is anything you’re saying actually true?” 

What?

“OK, uh... quick question: What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?” 

“You’re right, that was invasive. My bad.”

“It’s ok.”

They walked a while, in silence, until they left the flower tunnel and were now surrounded by tall skyscrapers and streets adjourned with restaurants. Gray knew that Carmen didn’t know the extent of what He knew the difference, he knew when he was playing his parts, there was no way he could have survived if he didn’t, he knew who he was! This performance had become as much a part of him as the lack of it, every part of him he created was just another aspect that he controlled. He was the sum of these parts, did it matter if they were real? That was him, that was Graham Marks, the pretender. The liar. There was no differentiation between the fake and the real, they were all the same thing.

But if he stripped away every single act, every performance away from himself, what would he have left? 

No. He is  _ not _ confronting that. 

“I wonder how Amelia’s doing?” Carmen asked.

“She’s happy to see her family again. She texted me this morning.” 

“How’s she going to explain coming back with us, do you know?”

“She’s told them she’s found a job, I think. I’m not sure how they’re going to take it, though,” He said. Carmen smiled. Gray knew she’d purposefully changed the subject.

***

There weren’t any shows on at the theatre, but that didn’t mean they could just break into it in broad daylight (or evening-light. Or whatever). Anyway, that wasn’t even where there targets were, no,  _ they _ were in a little museum just beside it. And, luckily for Gray, there was the tiniest alleyway behind it, leading inside. Unluckily for Gray, there was barely enough room for one person, and his chest was nearly against the opposite wall. Carmen said she was going to open the door for him (he wanted to kick it down, but she said no), but it had been nearly half an hour and he hadn’t heard a thing. 

“Hey, Player, what’s going on in there?”

“We’re still getting in. Don’t worry, she’s coming for you.”

“I’m not worried, it’s just taking a while. Also, it’s really cramped in here.”   
  


“Patience, Graham. I’m on my way,” Carmen’s voice came through, “I just needed to wait for the right moment.”

“Why are these costumes even  _ in _ Brisbane, anyway? It never exactly struck me as the antique costume capital.” 

“It was for the International Series,” Player provided his eternal wisdom, as always, “Each year, a ballet company from around the world performs here as part of Brisbane’s International Series.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember Matt mentioning something about that. It was the Bolshoi last year, right?”

“I can’t say, I’m not exactly the biggest ballet fan, but this year was supposed to be the Paris Opera. And they decided to display some of their old costumes as a part of it. Some of them are original costumes for the most famous ballets today.”

“There are two we think VILE’s targeting, the original costumes from Coppelia and La Sylphide.” Carmen told him, “They’re incredibly valuable, and incredibly important pieces of dance history.”

“Especially the one from La Sylphide. The ballet revolutionised pointework techniques, and is known for paving the way for the balletic styles used today,” Player came in again.

“Yeah, it was the first time pointe shoes were used for the aesthetic, I know. Didn’t realise they have a thing for ballets.”   
  


“Countess Cleo does. And if she can’t show them off she’ll just sell them off. There’ll be someone wh- hang on.”

The line went quiet. Gray waited for her return, but several minutes passed without a single response from either of them. He leant against the wall (there wasn’t much else he could do with the space he had), and waited for something, anything. Worry was starting to gnaw at him when he finally heard a noise, but it didn’t come from his earbud. 

The door to his right opened. But before he could turn, an arm reached out and grabbed his jacket, yanking him inside. 

“He-”

Another hand covered his mouth. The door shut behind him as he was pulled inside, and he was face to face with Carmen. 

“Mmph!?”

“VILE. They’re already here.” 

Well. That certainly made things  _ fun _ .

“Mm!?”

“Don’t worry, just keep quiet.”

Gray looked down, pointedly. Carmen’s hand was still covering his mouth.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” She released him.

“So what do we do? I’m not exactly equipped to go around playing stealthy stealth with international criminals, Carmen!” He whispered. 

“Oh, calm down. You really think we can’t handle some operatives?”

  
“Do you remember what happened last time I thought I could handle an operative? And we don’t even know how many there are!”

“Last time was different,” Carmen said, resting her hand on his shoulder, “Last time you didn’t have me there. This time, I’ve got your back. I’ll make sure nothing happens to you. Do you trust me?”

Her hand was just above the scar that Lorikeet had left, but she couldn’t have known that. He glanced down at it, then looked back up at her. 

“I trust you.”

“Then let’s go.”

They were far quieter than they normally were, padding down the carpeted hallways, lit with only Carmen’s torch, which she held low. They reached the door to the exhibition room after about two minutes of walking (again, small museum), which was marked by a sign above the door, and a now redundant sign to the side, showing the name of the exhibition.

“You reckon they’re in there?” Gray whispered.

“Seriously, Graham?”

“I meant the operatives. Not the costumes, the costumes are obviously in there.”

“Oh. My bad.”

Carmen pulled out a card and swiped it in the reader. It clicked open. 

“Only one way to find out,” She said, gently pushing the door. 

The exhibition room was a fair size, but cramped with the sense of unfinishedness. Carmen kept her torchlight low to the ground, just in front of them, but it was enough to see the empty glass cabinets, the sheets on the ground, and the racks and racks of costumes. 

“The ones we want will already be in the cabinets,” Carmen whispered, “They’re too fragile not to be.”

“Not fragile enough to keep them from being shipped halfway around the world,” Gray replied, edging along. He looked at the racks directly in front of them, and as the torchlight moved them out of the shadows, one caught his attention. It was... familiar.

“Hey, I thought you said they were displaying antique costumes? This one’s less than a decade old. It’s from some storeroom at the Opera House.”

“Didn’t realise you spent so much time in storerooms at the Opera House,” Carmen raised an eyebrow.

He didn’t. But unless he wanted to explain to Carmen Sandiego, the woman so anti-thievery she shot the moon and actually went back to thievery, that he and his friends casually engaged in poorly-planned larceny, he should probably keep that to himself. 

“This one’s from what, 2015? What is it doing here?” He went to look at the tag, still hanging from the peach coloured bodice.

“Does it matter? Graham, come back, we’ve still got a mission!”

“It’s, like, 2 metres away, Carmen, I’ll be fine.” 

He reached for the tag, brushing his fingers against the thicker, dustier fabric of the bodice, and looked at it. The year must be on the other side, because he definitely remembered seeing the date written down on this thing, even if he never looked at it closely. But then he saw the name at the bottom, in careful print.

“What the hell?”

“What is it? What did you find?” Carmen asked, reminding Gray exactly what they were here for. He dropped the tag and went back to Carmen. It wasn’t that big of a deal, he could figure this out later.

“Oh, it’s nothing. You’re right, we’re on a mission,” 

“It seemed like something to you. Tell me.”

“It’s just, that costume, the tag said it belonged to Matt.”

“Really? She was a dancer?”   
  


“No. She liked ballet, but she never said anything about doing it. Anyway, she would’ve been 15 years old when this costume was worn.”

“But it’s  _ her _ name on the costume. Could there be another Madison Wells?”

“I don’t know. Look, it doesn’t matter right now, we should figure it out  _ after _ we get the costumes.”

“You’re right,” Carmen said, “Come on, they should be right around here.”

They went in the gap between the two glass cases, and turned another corner. As they walked deeper into the room, the air became steadily dustier, smelling distinctly of renovation, and it soon became apparent why. There was a wooden wall in front of them, designed to create a room within a room. It was unpainted, with an open doorway, leading into the shadowy room where their costumes lay. 

“The costumes have to be in there, right? If they would be anywhere, they would be in there, right?” He asked Carmen. 

“Yup. You ready?”

“I mean, as I’ll ever be.”   
  


“I’ll take it.” 

They walked into the room and… it was very anticlimactic. It was just a smaller version of the rest of the exhibition, sheets on the floor, glass cabinets, the implication of something more than what was there. But here it was stronger, the sawdust more apparent, there were more sheets on the floor, some of them in crumpled piles, and spotted and stuck with paint. And the glass cabinets were not only empty, but open as well. 

The glass cabinets were empty.

“Oh, come on!”

“We’re too late.” Carmen said, “They’re gone.”

“Shit!” Gray kicked a pile of sheets, “Great. Excellent! Just dandy.”

“Player, they’ve got the costumes, I need everything you’ve got to figure out where they are.”

Gray turned around, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

And stopped. Very, very, suddenly.

“Um, Player? I don’t think you need to find out where they are…”

There was a fan pointing at him. Naturally, because that was VILE’s modus operandi: Standing menacingly and pointing objects at him. Just wait, that fan was going to be some weapon of mass destruction.

“Well, this is a surprise. I didn’t expect to see you here, Crackle. Lucky me.”

She had long, dark hair in a long, loose braid, which trailed over her right shoulder, down over her gold coat, reaching her mid-thigh. The hand that wasn’t holding the fan was wrapped around two white garment bags. 

He knew that they were the costumes they needed. He didn’t know what the hell this lady was talking about. 

But she was, apparently, talking to him, judging by her gaze. There was a reaction somewhere inside of him, but it was so faint it wasn’t worth paying attention to. 

“Do I know you?” He asked, trying to back away, but it was at that moment that Carmen attacked. 

She shoved Gray to the side and made a grab for the costumes. The operative jumped out of the way, throwing the costumes out of reach and blocking Carmen’s hit. Gray hit the floor and immediately saw his chance. He made for the costumes. Carmen had a hold on the operative, and was promptly hit in the face for her troubles. But it didn’t loosen her grip. She kicked the operative in the stomach, who staggered back with a grunt of pain.

“So Paper Star was right.” The operative said, breathing heavily. “What luck, of all the missions I get sent on, it just happens to be the one where you bring hi-”

Carmen lunged again. Gray didn’t have time to watch, he reached the bags. He could grab them and make a run for it, Carmen would want it, Carmen would be fine with it. Carmen would be fine without him. But could he really leave her behind like that? It didn’t sit right with him. Regardless, he had to do  _ something _ . He grabbed one of the garment bags. And reached into his pocket.

There was a sudden blunt, blinding pain in his side. And he keeled over with a yelp. Struggling to breathe, nausea surging through him. The muscles in his throat constricted, trying to keep the bile down. He felt the garment bags being taken away. 

“I’ll be taking those, thank you!” The operative said. Gray made one final grab for the bags, but his hand slid down and hit the ground. He turned to see Carmen, on the ground and holding her arm, glaring at the operative as she walked away, 

“You’re lucky, Carmen Sandiego,” The operative smiled, “that it was only the blade and not the poison. There have been others who weren’t.”

“You won’t… I’ll be back… I’ll get those costumes back,” Carmen spat at her, breathing heavily. 

The operative shrugged, “Maybe so. But luck has always been on my side. It’s in my name, after all.” 

And she just walked out. Leaving them there. Leaving Carmen bleeding and Gray barely breathing. Still, he hurried to her and checked her wound. 

“Are you okay?”   
  


The cut was shallow, long, but shallow. It tore the coat along her upper arm. 

“I’m fine,” Carmen said, “You?”

“Yeah,” He appreciated being able to breathe properly again.

“Carmen, what happened?” Player asked, worried.

“I’m fine, Player, she just sliced me with her fan.”

Wow. The seemingly innocuous item was revealed to be a dangerous weapon used against them. Shocking. Who could have seen that coming?

“I need you to track her down,” Carmen said, looking incredibly frustrated with herself. The hand that hadn’t returned to manning her wound wiped her face. “She got away.”

“I’m on it. I’ll check the CCTVs in the area, figure out where she’s heading.”

“Actually, Player, you don’t need to do that,” He said, “I can figure out exactly where she’s taking them.”

“What? How?”

“I grabbed them, remember? She gave me a bloody sharp kick for my troubles, too. It’s still smarting.”

“So, what? You can now summon them from the astral plane? Track them with your psychic ability?” Carmen raised an eyebrow.

“No, if you’d actually let me  _ finish _ , I was going to say that if we go back to the hotel room, I’ll be able to get the receiver out, and we’ll be able to track the costumes.”

“Receiver?”

“The RFID receiver. The one I asked for, remember?”

“Yes, but why?”   
  


“Wait… Graham, you didn’t-” Player started, but Gray cut him off.

“I did. Lorikeet’s tracker, remember? The one she put in my jacket?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I fixed it up, remade it. And it’s now stuck to the corner of one of those dress bags our dear friend just took.”

Carmen’s face broke into a radiant smile, “Gray, you’re a genius!” she said, laughing elatedly.

“If you say so,” He stood up, helping Carmen to her feet as well, “Come on, let’s get you patched up.”

“You know, as much as I do appreciate sticking it to VILE, I feel like we should’ve taken some of those trackers,” Player said.

“Hey, that tracker took me long enough, I am not fixing up anything else that small for a long time.” It wasn’t that he couldn’t work on a small scale, he’d started small scale, but that tracker was  _ miniscule _ , and incredibly fragile. Naturally, it had added its own additions to the collection of small scars that adorned his fingers. He ran his thumb over a particularly prominent one that ran down his index finger (he’d gotten it at a party in high school, the cut itself had been worn with time but still raised), as he and Carmen crept outside.

As they were leaving, Gray turned to her.

“Hey, Carmen? What did the operative mean, when she said you were lucky about the poison?”

“Oh, right. Her whole shtick is around luck. It’s even in her codename: Tyche. It’s the Greek goddess of fortune.”

“Huh. Bit of a mouthful.”

“It is. Anyway, her fan, it’s bladed. But the trick of it is that it sometimes releases poison, sometimes doesn’t. Not even she knows what’ll happen, it’s all about luck.”

Oh, because of  _ course _ it is.

***

The hotel towered above them, so naturally, Carmen’s plan was to zipline to the top. 

“Are you sure this is the place?” He asked her.

“Well, you said the signals were coming from here, so I’d hope so.”

“I’ve got confirmation, so yes. We’re good.” Player said. 

“Should I even ask how you manage to get that?” 

“No.”

“Alright.” 

Carmen pulled her grappling hook from her coat, and looked up.

“Are you sure that can handle two people?”

“It worked fine last time.”

“Last time I genuinely thought I was going to die, but okay.”

“Yeah, yeah, you were fine. Anyway, you ready?”

“Actually, not reall-”

Carmen grabbed him around the waist, and the next thing he knew he was shooting upwards. His stomach dropped.   
  


“Cri- oh, screw it - Fuck!”

They hit the cold tile of the rooftop bar with all too much impact on Gray’s knees. It was colder here than it was on the ground, and the rain had picked up into a proper downpour. 

“So, what’s the plan?” He asked. “I knock on the door and you sneak in through the window?”

“Would that work?”

“I mean, I still have Matt’s taser. I could blast whats-her-face when she answers and you can get the goods.”

“Yeah, but we don’t know who’s going to answer the door. Or if they even will.”

“Won’t it be the same one?”

“No. VILE never has one operative do an entire mission. That way, if an operative gets caught, they can never provide a full set of information.”

“Oh? Huh, yeah, that makes sense, actually.”

“So I don’t know if you knocking on the door is a good idea. What if it’s someone you… well, can’t handle?”

“I was able to handle Lorikeet alright. I mean, I  _ did _ get stabbed, but it wasn’t lethal! And sure, Zack nearly got his throat slit, and sure, I still sometimes get nightmares about that, but we got away!” 

“Literally  _ hours _ ago you were telling me how badly you handled that situation. Anyway, I thought you were still having the furry dreams?”

“Yeah, but hours ago saying that it went badly fit the situation better. And I am still having the furry dreams, he’s just in them sometimes.” 

“I really should’ve brought Zack and Ivy,” Carmen said, “I didn’t think we’d need to do this.”

“What’s the worst that’ll happen, I have you, remember? Nothing bad’ll happen with you by my side.”

Carmen smiled. 

“Red, there’s no proof that anything that could, uh, hurt him will happen. He’s come face to face with a VILE agent and nothing went wrong.”

“Yes, but that was Lorikeet. We don’t know who could be down there. We’ve already had one near miss with Tyche.”

“And he didn’t… nothing happened. All we need is a distraction. If he gets in there and knocks them out, they don’t even need to see his face,” Player said. 

Technically, it wouldn’t knock them out, Gray knew. Just incapacitate. But he didn’t need to tell Carmen that.

“Are you sure?” Carmen asked.

“Come on, do you trust me?” Gray responded.

“Fine. You go to the door, you knock them out. Nothing else. Don’t let them look at you too closely.”

“Don’t worry,” He smiled, “I got this.”

Carmen didn’t look all too reassured. She was quiet for a while, and he waited for her response with slightly bated breath. But she nodded, anyway.

“Ok. Let’s do it,” She said.

The two of them headed towards the locked doors leading to the inside of the hotel. Gray looked at Carmen. 

“Can I kick  _ these _ ones down?”

“Yes, Graham, you can absolutely kick the glass doors down. I don’t see how that can go wrong at all.”

“Oh, yeah,” He tried to hide his disappointment. He understood it, but he tried to hide his disappointment. Matt’s impulsiveness made far more sense to him when he was no longer a leader, the lack of responsibility meant he could entertain his dumber ideas. And the dumber ideas were always way more fun. 

Carmen pulled out a lockpick and set to work. It took her several minutes, but eventually she stood up, gave the doors a push, and they swung open silently.

“Player, and updates on the room location?”

“I’ve got CCTV of Tyche entering room 624. They mustn’t have wiped them yet.”

“I guess we’ve caught the cat napping,” He said, “Should I signal you, or something, when I get there? So you know where the room is?”

“I’ll watch where you go and guide Carmen from there,” Player said.

“Alrighty then,” He smiled at Carmen, “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Remember: Just get in and knock them out as soon as possible.”

“I will.”

Gray walked into the elevator. The back wall was lit up with a scene of fish swimming through a pond, which spread out to the floor beneath him, the walls a smooth silver colour. He pressed the button for the sixth floor and the doors glided shut. Gray ran his fingers down the wall beside him, enjoying the feeling of cold, smooth metal beneath them. There was always so nice in the way his fingers slid down new metal, the way they glided. And it wasn’t just metal. He remembered the old grand piano that Toby used to have, the way the keys had felt when he ran his fingers over them. Toby had asked if he played. Gray returned the question, and Toby had sat down beside him and shown him. He was good, but it was clear that his heart wasn’t in it. His mother was insistent that he be a musician, which explained a great deal. 

The elevator doors slid open with a soft voice announcing that he was on the sixth floor. There two arrows on the parallel wall, pointing in opposite directions, guiding him to the room of his choice. Gray headed right, then turned around to see the camera just above the elevator. He saluted it, and headed on his way. 

It didn’t take him long to reach his destination. Room 624 had the exact same door that every other room in the hallway had, same cream colour, same golden handle, same card reader, only the number differentiated it. Could anyone else in this hallway know who was in here? It was just another night for them, in a fancy hotel, maybe, but still just another night. But for Gray, this was the thrill. This was what the Machine had wanted, what it had promised to provide, and yet, it was gone. It had been gone for months. He didn’t know what it was, but he was fine without it. Maybe he could no longer tell where it ended and he began.

Gray shrugged the thought away. It wasn’t important right now.

So, how was he going to play this? He hadn’t thought about that. Whoever was in there wasn’t stupid enough to open the foor to someone they didn’t know. So how to make them?   
  


Well, there was only one way to start. Gray could improvise his way through, and several routes were already opening themselves up to him. But the only way he could try was to knock.

So he knocked. 

There was no reply. But there was definitely someone in there, he knew that, he could see the light on. He had to get them out somehow. All they had to do was open the door. That’s all he needed. And that, he realised, he could do. 

He knocked again, more insistently, urgently. 

“Excuse me? Excuse me, is there someone in there?” He emulated Matt’s retail voice to the best of his ability, adding enough urgency to raise concern. Admittedly, he didn’t expect it to work, at least, not immediately. 

But someone must have been smiling down upon him, because from inside, there were footsteps. 

Footsteps coming towards the door. Footsteps coming towards the door way too quickly. There was something almost uneven in them, like they were unsure of how they were moving, but urgent in where they needed to be. Desperate, even. And judging by the noise, they were wearing heels. 

Gray wrapped his hand around the taser in his pocket, ready to fire. He slowed his breathing down, and felt the calm of the adrenaline thrumming through him, the one that came with control, of knowing who he was supposed to be and what he could do. The knowledge that he had the upper hand, over himself, and over the situation. He could do this. He knew he could do this. The electricity ran down his arm, through his fingers, spread from his ribs like the roots of a tree. This was his ballgame. This was what he did best.

Then the door opened. And Gray, as ready as he could be and then some, didn’t think, he yanked the taser out of his pocket and smiled at his opponent, not that he thought they’d see it.

And the shock immediately made him drop it.

It hit the carpet by his right foot with a dull thump, but he felt it reverberate through his very bones. He felt it harmonise with his heartbeat.

The woman in the doorway, she had platinum blond hair and a mole that didn’t suit her at all, and he recognised her.

He recognised her.

He knew the sound of her voice, the sound of her laugh, he had heard it so many times before. Had played it again and again in his faulty memory. One of the few images he had with complete clarity, she was laughing in it. 

And judging by the look on her face right now, she recognised him, too.

“Gray?” She had an American accent. Gray swore he could feel his brain rewire. He didn’t even need to know how she knew his name.

“Do I… no, wait,” He didn’t even need to ask.

“I know you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally had something to put here but I cut it from the chapter so it no longer makes sense.
> 
> Anyway, do you guys think that Carmen knows what a furry is? Like, she grew up on VILE island, there's bound to be a lot of stuff about internet culture and memes that she doesn't get, and who would teach her that? Like who's going to sit down with this kid and not only explain the concept, but break it to her that she is one? Gray wouldn't have the heart to tell her, none of the others could without admitting that they were also furries, and I don't think Mime Bomb is capable of explaining it. So, when Gray told her about the furry dreams, did she immediately have to leave and ask Player what they were? Did Player, fourteen year old hacker, have to explain to the great Carmen Sandiego what yiffing was? It is currently 2 am but I'm awake because I need answers. 
> 
> Also there's a spider in my room and I can't tell if it's venomous or not.


	36. The Tim Tams and Tutus Caper, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gray meets someone. Carmen improvises. It's an interesting result.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo a chapter I don't mind! Yay!  
On a worse note school goes back this week and I have exams this term send help.

The woman’s eyes went even wider, if that was even possible.

“You know who I am?” She had an American accent, and looked just as surprised as he felt.

“No. But we’ve met, somewhere, haven’t we? I know you, but how?”

Her face fell, “So… you still don’t remember? Anything?”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Then, you’re here… you’re here for the costumes, aren’t you?”

Gray was vividly reminded of exactly that fact. He thought he should at least try to deny it, but he was so caught up in the fact that not only was this woman, one of the sole occupants of three years of previously empty space, was now standing right in front of him, the sole thing in his way between him and what he came for. 

She was the VILE agent. One of the three people he remembered was a VILE agent. What the fuck was he supposed to do with that?

“You should come inside,” The woman said, and it was clear that she knew exactly what that would entail, but still she stood aside to let him through, and Gray, against his better judgement, followed her. She closed the door behind him, facing it, her hand still on the handle. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I’m just shocked. I thought Tyche was lying, there have been so many rumours about you, back home, I thought she just wanted in on the action. But then I heard your voice… and I...”

“What rumours? What do you mean, home?”

She turned around, raising a sculpted eyebrow at him, “You really don’t know anything, do you?”

“Could I start, at least, with your  _ name _ ?”

“Call me Tigress.”

“Your actual name would be nice, but I’ll take it.”

The outfit made more sense to him, now. But absolutely nothing else did. Tigress sat down on one of the couches, and Gray, after a moment of consideration, sat across from her. 

“So you’re working for Carmen Sandiego,” she said, suddenly. Gray quirked an eyebrow.

“And…  _ you _ are working for VILE.”

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” Tigress asked, “She sent you. To distract me.”

There was something so self-assured in her voice. Gray knew there was no point in denying it. It felt like she knew him too well, and he wanted to know how. It was a secret for a secret, he supposed, and he knew that trade well. 

“I was supposed to knock you out at the door. Take the costumes and go. Maybe hit with the taser again, for good measure, who knows? But I also wasn’t supposed to recognise you, so here we are.”

He sounded so calm, and a part of him was. This felt familiar, but he didn’t feel in control. Gray knew how much time he was wasting, and how easily Tigress could play him, but what if she knew something important? This could not have happened for no reason, the fact that this woman was in his memory and the fact that she was a VILE operative could not be two mutually exclusive facts. He had to know what was going on.

“Only my friends call me Gray. And even then, only people who I met after I lost my memories. So where do you stand? How did we become friends?”

Well, people he met after he lost his memories, and Carmen. And now Tigress.

Tigress’ face twisted into something ugly.

“What, Carmen hasn’t told you?” She phrased it like a question, but it was clear it wasn’t one. 

“Told me what?” He still asked it.

“Oh, of course she hasn’t,” Tigress muttered under her breath, “That bitch.”

“Don’t call her that,” He snapped. He was friends with this woman once, but he wasn’t about to let her insult his boss while she was at it.

“Why not? She deserves it, I knew I was right to… never mind. Gray, listen to me,” She leaned forward, her voice urgent, “You need to get away from her. You think she’s made of gold but she doesn’t give a single shit about you, not in the long run.”

“I don’t think we’re at the stage yet where you can tell me what I’m thinking.”

“Do you not hear me? She’s toying with you, Gray! She’ll keep you around until she’s done with you and she’ll toss you aside. She’s done it before and she’ll do it again!”

“What do you mean, done it before? I’ve known for a year and she hasn’t done anything to me. It’s you people I needed to watch out for, you’re the ones who-”

“She’s the reason your memories are gone!”

Tigress’ voice stopped him dead, whether from content or sheer volume, he didn’t know. The silence that followed rung even louder still.

“What?” 

“Did you never think to ask how she found you in the first place?” Tigress’ voice was quieter, now.

“She found me through coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less,” he said, standing up. Something in him was unsettled. Deeply unsettled, shaking like plucked strings. He began to back away.

“Oh?” Tigress said, rising up as well, “So it’s never seemed like she knew things about you that she shouldn’t? It never seemed like she’s known you before?”

Gray stumbled back, suddenly unsure of where his legs were. His hands suddenly felt very, very cold. 

“No. No, no, I don’t believe you. Why should I believe you?” 

Tigress was coming closer, he was still moving away.

“Because I’m looking out for you, Gray-”

“It’s Graham. And I’ll take talk about ‘looking out for me’ for someone who  _ isn’t _ working for the organisation that kidnapped my friends.”

Tigress stopped.

“Kidnapped?” She said.

The door burst open, they looked around. Carmen stared at them with wide eyes. She looked between them, terrified, and understanding hit Gray like a stone sinking deep into his stomach. Tigress wasn’t lying to him. Nothing she said made any sense, but there was a grain of truth in it. 

Carmen did know something. She had a hand in what had happened to him. 

“You…” Tigress was staring at Carmen, her face was twisting into something indescribable, “You bitch!”

And she lunged at her, shoving Carmen back out into the hallway. Carmen kicked her back, and they fell back into the room. Gray stood there, shellshocked. He didn’t know what to do, he genuinely didn’t know what to do. He had to stop this, but Tigress was telling the truth. She was telling the truth. But to what extent? Was he fighting against the wrong person? Was Tigress really his enemy? But could he believe her? He knew nothing about her. He had no reason to trust her. But he  _ remembered _ her. And what she was saying about Carmen had rung true...

Then that meant she was dangerous. That meant whatever she had done before, she could do it again. And he was living in the line of fire. He put himself at risk. Not just him, he put Amelia at risk.

Amelia. 

What would she think? What would she do?

She would trust Carmen, she was loyal where he wasn’t. But she wouldn’t just stand by, would she? If Carmen really was dangerous...

Regardless, he realised, she would care more about the fact that there are two antique ballet costumes to steal and an evil organisation to stop. Carmen would come later.

He knew what he had to do.

He ran at Tigress. With all his strength he pushed her off Carmen and pinned her to the ground. She let out a squeal of shock.

“Carmen! The costumes!” He yelled. Carmen didn’t need telling twice, she made a dash for them.

“Seriously, Gray? After  _ everything _ !?” Tigress was struggling beneath him. One gloved hand struck him across the face, and he learnt, in the worst possible way, that the claws on her gloves were real. 

“I met you 5 minutes ago!”

He recoiled, and Tigress got the upper hand. She tried to swipe him again, but he was saved by a hand pulling his jacket, alongside the rest of him, up and away. Carmen pulled him out of the room, he stumbled with the sudden movement, but regained his footing quickly. People were peering around their own doorways at the commotion, and several workers were hurrying to investigate. Carmen shoved them aside, they yelled at her to stop, but she paid them no mind. She was still pulling him along by his jacket, it seemed to be a thing with her, but he turned around and gave them a mockingly apologetic shrug. 

And then nearly tripped, as Carmen yanked him away.

“The emergency stairs,” He told her, once he’d caught up with her, “They’re at the other end.”

Carmen nodded once, and they tore down the hallway. They reached the other end, and Gray didn’t even hesitate. He kicked the door open. 

“Nice!”

“Come on!” Carmen pushed him along. 

Another yell echoed up from below as they clambered up the cement stairs. He didn’t even look down, all he could think about was one stair after another, going higher and higher, his chest aching with the exertion. How Carmen managed it in heels, he didn’t know. But finally they reached the top, the roof. Where the doors were unlocked and everything was safe. They hurtled outside. 

It was at that point that Gray registered that they had absolutely no way of getting off the roof. But he was lucky that he was even able to think, over the downpour. It came down like stones, reverberating off of everything around them. He had his hood up and already his fringe was plastered to his forehead.

“How are we going to get down?” He asked, over the rain, because there was no way that hang glider of hers was going to fly in this weather. Not that he wanted to take it, anyway. 

Carmen was looking around, moving quickly but carefully to the railing. 

“I have an idea!” She called back, “But you’re going to have to trust me on this!”

She tossed him the garment bags and pulled her grapple gun out, aiming it very carefully. It felt like an hour before she finally fired it. Gray was acutely aware of the security still thundering up the stairs, but she had a look in her eye that told him he shouldn’t interrupt her. Finally she fired it, and the line went taut. Carmen pulled on it three times, with all her strength. Assured it was tight, she then wrapped the gun itself around the railing, until it was tightly secured and she pulled on that, too. Gray had absolutely no idea what she was doing. Carmen then took the bags from him, and hooked one onto the wire.

And suddenly Gray had a very vivid idea of what she was doing. 

“No. No way. Absolutely fucking not, you are  _ not _ thinking of getting me on that thing.” 

“Do you have a better idea!?” Carmen called back.

“It is pissing down rain, Carmen! You want me to hold onto a  _ wooden  _ coat hanger in the  _ pouring rain _ ! I am not fucking doing that!”

“Well, we can either stay here or wait for security to catch us, or you can suck it up and get it over with so we don’t get caught! Your call, Graham!”

Gray stared at her, incredulous and furious and scared. But he didn’t have a choice. 

He grabbed the coat hanger. Already it was gliding slightly beneath his gloves. He wrapped his hand around the base of the hook and wrapped his other hand around that.

And climbed over the railing. 

If he could have been aware enough to keep a measurement on it, he would never have been more terrified before in his life than he was now. But right now all he knew was how half of his feet were already over the edge and the water was soaking his legs where he was pushed up against the glass barrier and it was already so slippery but the water just kept moving and just kept coming. He let one hand go so he could wrap his arm around the bag, returning it to his original position but giving him more support.

“Do you have it? Are you holding it? Tight?”

“Well, as tight as I fucking can in this rain, but sure!”

“Ok, I’m going to push you off! On three, okay?”

Gray nodded, pressing as tightly into the bag as he could. Carmen’s voice was growing more distant, yet it was drilling through his ears. 

“One… two… three!”

He was aware of his feet leaving the ground before he could register the push, and he was sailing through the air. The scream was snatched from his throat by the wind. No matter how much he tried his hands kept sliding on the hanger, if he even tried to readjust he just slid further. He had to close his eyes, wind and water kept getting in them. His arms were in agony as he tried to support his own weight. There was no way he could hold on, there was no way he was going to get to the other end, he was going faster and faster and faster and faster and his grip was failing. He was going to fall, he was going to fall, he was

His feet hit the rooftop. They immediately fell out from underneath him and he hit the rest of the roof side on. He rose onto his hands on his knees, trying to quell raging nausea for the second time this evening. His hands felt abnormally numb, they were quivering, not just from the cold. Behind him, there was another  _ thump _ , as Carmen hit the roof as well. Gray looked up to see the doorway of the structure the hook had attached to, what looked like a doorway to the lower floors, as Carmen grabbed the hook and threw it over the side of the wall.

Gray assumed she meant to throw it onto the building next over, but it bounced off the side and disappeared into the street below. They both stared at it.

“I… really hope that didn’t hit anyone,” Carmen said, looking at the rooftop it was supposed to land on. Gray laughed, and immediately realised how hysterical he sounded. She turned around quickly.

  
  


“Woah, let’s get you out of the rain, ok? Come on, come inside, you need a minute,” She said, 

guiding him up with her hands on his shoulders. He allowed himself to be led inside, and when Carmen kicked the door down, he didn’t say anything. 

It was a stairway leading to the lower levels. Gray leant against the wall, and slowly slid down to the stairwell floor. His hands were still shaking.

“Please…  _ never _ make me do that again,” He said, and his voice didn’t sound like his own.

“I’m sorry, I should never have put you in that situation.”

“Are you kidding me, Red?” Player burst in, suddenly, making them jump, “I told you it was a bad idea, you could have died!”

“I know, I’m sorry. But can we spare the lecture? Gray kinda needs a moment.”

“Of course he does, after tha- yeah, yeah, I’ll give you two a minute.”

He felt Carmen’s hand brush his cheek, and only realised then that he was still bleeding.

“Tigress,” he mumbled, his voice still unfamiliar, “The claws are real.”

“They are,” Carmen said, “What did she tell you, Graham?”

He couldn’t see the point in keeping it from her, at least, not right now.

“That you were the reason my memories were gone.”

Her other hand rose up to grab his shoulder, which he felt grip tightly, “She’s lying to you. Understand? You can’t trust a word she says.”

The absurdity of Carmen’s behaviour wasn’t lost on him, her reaction was strange. But everything felt strange to him, at the moment. 

“Yeah, I gathered as much. She was just trying to get under my skin.” He said, because even in his state he knew that showing her his full hand was a bad idea. She didn’t know what he remembered, and that gave him the chance to figure her out. He couldn’t let her know he was onto her, if there was even anything to be onto. 

“You did amazing tonight, Graham,” she told him. He smiled back, weakly.

“I know,” he said, “Can we go home now, though?”

Carmen laughed, gently, “Yeah, let’s go back. We need to patch you up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I'm aware that's not exactly how grappling hooks and guns work and they're not really feasible but shhhhhh


	37. Gray, Lockpicker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They get back to the house. Amelia learns valuable info. Gray decides to take action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's late! I had to rewrite one of my major projects and that took priority.
> 
> Also, as my trials and due dates approach, the updates may become way more sporadic. I'll try my best but my studies have to take priority. Thank you all so much for understanding!

Gray ran his hand over the patch on his cheek again. He hoped it wouldn’t scar, Carmen said it wouldn’t, but he couldn’t know until it healed properly. His fingers traced over the edge of the bandaid, when he felt Carmen’s hand pulling his own away. It was incredibly warm.

“Stop it. It’s not going to heal any faster if you keep messing with it,” she told him.

“I’m not messing with it. I’m just…”

“Messing with it,” Carmen smiled, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes.

Gray gave in. The airport was far less crowded than it would have been under any other circumstances, but it was still very noisy. They were waiting on the run of the mill, black, airport seats for Amelia to get back, so they could finally go back to being locked up in a house until the next ‘essential trip’. Carmen was trying to tell him something, he was getting better at reading her, but he didn’t know what. 

“Hey, Graham?” she said. 

“What’s up?”

“I really think I need to apologise. About what happened the night before last with the zipline. I should never have put you in that situation.”

“What?” Gray was trying not to think about that, or how fucking stupidly he had acted, “No, don’t worry about it. I overreacted, anyway.”

“No, you didn’t, it’s completely my fault. I didn’t handle it well, I should’ve told you what I was doing, I should’ve figured out a safer plan, but I panicked and thought it was the only option when it wasn’t. Your reaction was justified, and I’m sorry.”

Her hand rested on his forearm, and he felt the sudden urge to throw it off. The interaction with Tigress had left something very strange in him, he didn’t know whether to listen to it or not.

“Hey, there she is,” he said, instead, because Amelia had just entered his line of sight. Wearing a pink face mask and a pink backpack and purple shoes that were absolutely new. He imagined she smiled, but he couldn’t see her mouth. 

“What happened to your face?” she asked, pulling down the facemask (which Gray was sure kind of defeated the purpose, but he’d never worn a facemask before, he wasn’t actually sure of the exact logistics).

“Oh, nothing, just a bit of a scratch,” he said, shrugging.

“He’s downplaying it,” Carmen cut in, “He got slashed up by the VILE agent when he tackled them. It was very impressive.”

“It was not.”

“It was! You should’ve seen him, Amelia,” Carmen teased.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Oh! Oh, tell me everything, please!” Amelia said with a pointed grin. She linked arms with Carmen as the three of them headed to the baggage carousel.

***

“There’s something you’re not telling me about the mission,” Amelia said, sitting at her dresser, applying eyeshadow.

Gray blinked, surprised. He was leaning against Amelia’s shamefully not patterned and shamelessly unmade bed, having cleared and stacked notebooks and sketchbooks and papers to give him space on the floor to sit. He looked at the doorway, and onto the empty hallway. He couldn’t hear anyone else on their floor, but he couldn’t know that for sure. Zack and Ivy had learnt the most uncanny trick of staying as quiet as possible at the absolute worst moments. And Shadowsan had an uncanny trick of staying as quiet as possible all the fucking time. Gray couldn’t shut the door, or that would raise eyebrows immediately. 

“Something happened,” he said. Amelia picked up her eyeliner, and turned back to the mirror, “But you  _ can’t _ tell Carmen. Or anyone. But mainly Carmen.”

“Why?” Amelia lowered her voice, curious but suspicious.

“Remember that memory that I had?” Gray lowered his voice as well.

“Yeah?”

“One of the people in them. She was the VILE agent who was keeping the costumes.”

Amelia dropped the eyeliner. 

It clattered on the floor, and rolled towards his feet. He picked it up and handed it back to her.

“What!? How?” 

“I don’t know.”

“Did they… did they know you?!” Amelia demanded, flabbergasted. 

“She did. But… I tried to ask her something, and she… well, it gets weird.”

“How could this get weirder?”

“She told me Carmen was the reason that my memories were gone.”

Amelia turned around to stare at him, one eye more glittery than the other, “And it gets weirder. What!?”

“Yeah.”

Amelia kept staring at him, “Yeah?!  _ Yeah?! _ That’s all you have to say to this? You’re going to come in here, drop  _ that _ bombshell on me, and then just say  _ yeah _ ?!”

“You should use liquid eyeliner, it’d suit you better.”

“How would you even know that?”

“I legally cannot answer that question,”

“And you’re avoiding mine! How are you so calm about this?!”

He wasn’t. But he knew that if he showed how he was truly feeling Amelia wouldn’t believe what he was going to tell her. What he was trying to tell her.

“Because she was lying. Nothing she said was true.”

“I know, but how did VILE know to do that? How’d they even know you were with Carmen?”

“Well, Lorikeet may not have recognised me, but maybe VILE did?”

“And how would they know about your memory?”

“They  _ were _ following me for months. You knew about my memory when you were following me, didn’t you?”

“No, I mean, how did they know about your  _ memory _ ? How did they know that you remembered that  _ one thing _ that they could use against you?”

“I... don’t know,” He did. He did know, and the answer was that they didn’t. The answer was that there was no way Tigress could’ve known that the one memory he had was of her. At least, the one visual memory (she had a surprisingly large vocabulary, for someone who sounded like a teen-movie villain, he’d realised). There was only one conclusion he could draw from that, and he didn’t want to draw it.

“Shit, Gray,” Amelia said, “Why does every time your amnesia comes up things just get even  _ more _ confusing?”

He shrugged. He knew she wasn’t going to even entertain the possibility of Tigress telling the truth. It was why he wasn’t telling her that he was. Gray cared about her, deeply, he did, and she  _ was _ loyal to him, but she was only loyal to him because he had something she had wanted, something that Carmen now held. If Amelia’s loyalties were divided, he feared who she’d choose. 

But he’d never put her in that situation, anyway. That’s why he wasn’t telling her.

That, and, well... 

Anyway.

***

Carmen held through on her promise, but not to Gray. She finally freed Zack and Ivy from their confinement and took them out on a mission. And with Shadowsan out doing… whatever it was he was doing, Gray and Amelia had the house to themselves. 

Which meant they could do whatever. And ‘whatever’ consisted of heated rounds of Mario Kart, in which Amelia revealed an adeptness, sure, Amelia roping him into watching anime with her, and them accidentally binging the full two seasons in a night. ‘Whatever’ consisted of bad karaoke sessions, of online shopping sprees, of infiltrating the secret collection of bodice rippers in one of the storage closets and doing drunk readings at 1am, of trying to solve the mystery of who put the books in the closet in the first place. 

‘Whatever’ also consisted of staring at the locked door on the second floor, the one that Carmen had forbidden them from entering, and wondering if there were the answers he was so desperately searching for inside.

This was the start of a cautionary tale, he knew that, she had told him not to go in there for a reason, he didn’t know what he would find. 

But that’s why he wanted to know. He had to know. What was she trying to hide from him?

He had to know. 

But he couldn’t.

But he had to. It played like eternal ping-pong in his mind. Two weeks passed. 

It came to a head, it finally came to a head when Amelia found him trying to pick the lock with a Youtube video and one of Carmen’s spare sets. He was surprised at his sudden talent with it, he was nearly there when he heard her voice behind him.

“What are you doing?”

“Shit! Amelia!”

Amelia stared at him, “You really think that the only security Player and Carmen’s got on that room is a  _ lock _ ?”

He blinked at her, the lockpick still in his hand. Amelia sighed, and sat down next to him.

“What’s going on?” She asked, “What are you keeping from me?”

“Nothing! Nothing… well. I just… you’re right. How did Tigress know that I remembered her of all people?”

“Tigress, huh?”   
  


“Yeah. I can’t get the thought out of my head. I need to know for sure that Carmen’s innocent, that Tigress isn’t playing me,” That was technically true, just spun to better fit Amelia’s ears. 

“And you think this isn’t what Tigress wants? Sneaking around behind Carmen’s back? Distrusting her word?”

“Well, maybe it was also just curiosity? Maybe I just want to know Carmen’s dark secrets, whatever she’s got hiding in there.”

“Yes, and maybe that’s an invasion of privacy!”

“What, it’s not like it’s her bedroom or anything!”   
  


“Still, she told us not to go in there!”

“You need to be a bit more rebellious, Amelia. Come on, fuck around a bit! Fight the system!”

“Is that not  _ exactly _ what I did when I agreed to join her in the first place?”

“Yeah, but get creative! Stop worrying about breaking rules and start having fun with things!”

“What, by breaking into Carmen’s secret workroom? Yeah, I don’t think so.”

Gray sighed, “Ameeeeli-”

“If you promise to leave the room alone, I’ll spill some tea on Carmen,” Amelia said, suddenly. He looked at her.

“You have tea? On Carmen?”

“Do you promise not to try and get in here?”

“How do I know that whatever you have to tell me will be worth it?”

“You don’t,” Amelia gave him a saccharine smile, “But it’ll eat at you if you don’t find out.”

She was right. She knew him too well.

“Shit,” he said, “Well played. Alright, I promise I’ll give up on getting in there if you tell me.”

“Do you actually promise? Or is this one of those things that you immediately ignore the moment I leave?”

“Fine. I  _ actually  _ promise. Now, spill.”

“Ok. Now, hear me out, because it was something I overheard really briefly and there’s no proof that it even means anything. But I overheard a conversation between Carmen and Shadowsan the night we got back from Australia. They were arguing about something.”

“What about?”

“I don’t know, I knew it wasn’t something I was supposed to be hearing so I walked away. But Shadowsan was telling her that she ‘was making it worse if she kept trying to stall it’. He sounded pretty heated.”

“And what did Carmen say?”

“She kept saying that she knew, it was obvious that they’d had this argument before. I left after that. But I wondered if something happened on the mission. That’s why I asked you.”

“You never asked me, you acted like you already knew!”

“I wanted an honest answer,” Amelia shrugged, “And you’re a good liar.”

He never recalled Amelia being this shady. But then again, she was the one who suggested drugging and tying him up as bait, so that was probably his mistake. 

“Wait, this was two weeks ago?” he asked. Amelia nodded. Gray felt two and two click together in his mind. She had played him. She had played him well, and he knew it was nothing, but if he couldn’t have picked up on this, what else could she keep from him? It was nothing, it really was, it wasn’t a big deal, he knew that. 

But he again came to the realisation that he wouldn’t trust himself if it wasn’t for the fact that he  _ was _ himself.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” he asked.

“Because I didn’t know if it was even  _ about _ you. How could I know it-”

“Amelia.” 

Amelia sighed, “Because if I said something you might’ve gone searching for more information, and I didn’t want to be put in a situation where my loyalties were divided.”

Gray understood that, that was the reason he kept Amelia out of this as well, wasn’t it? But Amelia didn’t know that he suspected Carmen, at least, not from him. Did she really know him that well? Was she just that perceptive? Or was there something she wasn’t telling him? Amelia was never incapable of keeping secrets from him, he had to remember that, but he never thought she’d do it again, she wasn’t the type to intentionally keep things secret, not unless she had a higher purpose.

But what if she did?

What if her loyalties had already been divided? What if she’d already made her choice?

He nodded, “I get it. Don’t worry. I’ll keep my promise.”

Amelia smiled, before standing up and offering him a hand. He took it.

He was glad that he hadn’t told her the whole truth about Carmen. 


	38. Matt Should Really Face the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt and Toby discuss codenames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I'm sorrrrryyyyyyyyy. 
> 
> Also I need to change Matt's chapter pattern but I'll figure it out after my exams are done because I do not have time for it right now.
> 
> But on the plus side one of my major projects was due last Friday and I'm actually really proud of it! 
> 
> I can't wait until my exams are over so I can finally edit these chapters.

Matt has a codename. 

Well, she  _ thinks  _ she has a codename. 

Giselle.

_ Giselle _ .

It would work and it would suit her. All she has to do is announce it, and it would be hers.

But still, she withholds it. Still, she flounders. She questions. Matt hates thinking in non-definitive terms. She either makes her decision or she doesn’t. There’s nothing she hates more than being non-conclusive.

The main problem lies in the complete monkey’s paw it would be. Everything she wanted, in the last way she wanted it. 

But it  _ would _ be what she wanted.

Right?

Again, she hates thinking like this.

And she hates thinking  _ about _ this. It reminds her of every single way she’s failed. Of the fact that she has faced every single consequence for every single mistake and  _ still _ she hasn’t learned. 

Toby has asked her, after she had slammed the door behind Gray’s retreating back, why she always took things so far. 

He didn’t know half of it.

Matt didn’t tell him exactly what she had planned on saying to Gray if he hadn’t stopped her midway. She didn’t tell him that she would have regretted it immediately, and justified it almost immediately after that. After all, she would never have said it if he hadn’t brought up her past like that. Matt was just defending herself, after all! She was just retaliating, it was only fair. It wasn’t like she’d been given a choice.

She didn’t care that Gray hadn’t known. Didn’t care about the fact that he never intended for it to hurt her as much as it did. She’d only cared about the fact that he, completely unknowingly, hit the nail on the fucking head. 

Matt had done this to herself, after all.

“Have you thought about a codename yet?” Toby asks her. Because that’s all that Toby has been talking about for weeks. He’s deflecting, she’s sure. He doesn’t have to think about Gray when he’s thinking about the codenames. 

“Not since the last time you asked me, which was yesterday, by the way.”

“Benedita was thinking about going by Agrippina,” Toby tells her.

“Agrippina?”

“Important figure from Roman history, I think. Be careful when asking her about it, though, she loves to go into detail on the subject.”

Matt lets out a noncommittal noise. 

Her own potential codename rolls through her head. She’d promised herself that she’d never think about ballet again. She’d promised she cut herself off from all of that. That was why she went to Sydney in the first place, why she took such a nondescript job. The Opera House had been the one closeness she’d allowed herself to it. The last remnant of her old life. 

And even that was just to rub salt in the wound. 

***

Michiko stares at the book on her lap and lets out a long, agonised, sigh. 

“When I signed up for thief school, I didn’t do it knowing there was going to be so much _ studying _ ,” she huffs. 

“It’s thief  _ school. _ What did you think was going to happen?” Benedita asks, raising an eyebrow.

“More stealing, less studying. This is like being back in regular school. Only with less friends.”

“Hey! What the hell are we, then?” Matt asks. 

“ _ Less _ friends, not  _ no _ friends. Eight people is not exactly a  _ party _ .”

“Yes, thank God,” Rosalind mutters, “I don’t know how you can bear any more.”

“I like being around people,” Michiko shrugs, “How could you not?”

“Trust me, many,  _ many _ reasons.”

“Can we get back to it?” Benedita asks, “Roundabout’s class is first thing tomorrow and I want to have a grasp on whatever on Earth it is he’s talking about before then.”

“Wait, you do not know either?!” Michiko groaned, “I thought you were the one who knew things!”

“For the last time, I was a history student! A  _ history _ student! Technically, I’m not even that! I never even graduated! I don’t know anything about this psychology nonsense!”

“Look,” Matt cuts in, before Benedita goes from frazzled to panicking, “I know it  _ says _ human psychology, but what he really wants is a study in manipulation. Let’s cut down our scope first, okay?”

“Manipulation!?” Benedita cries, “I can’t do manipulation, I’ve never manipulated anyone in my life!”

“Didn’t you fake your death?”   
  


“That’s different, Rosalind!”

“Well, luckily for you, I’m a habitual liar,” Matt smiles, “I can give you a couple of pointers.”

“Okay, first of all, lying and manipulation are two different things,” Rosalind tells her, “Second of all, I don’t think that’s something you should be proud of.”

“Two different things, but the psychology’s still the same,” Matt shrugs, “Trust me, Toby still thinks I was a uni student.”

“You told Toby you were going to uni?”   
  
“Yeah, never even applied!”

“But… why? Why would you do that?” Benedita asks, the shock of Matt’s desecration upon her sacred institution of academia all over her face. 

Matt doesn’t know how to tell them. She doesn’t know if she can bring herself to tell the whole story. It had never been her intention to let the lie go as far as it had. It was just something she told Toby to placate him. To stop him asking questions. But then Toby told Gray. And then she was in too deep. So she just never corrected them. Avoided their questions. Tried not to think about it too much. Simple stuff, really. 

Not that they could exactly hold it against her, though. She could write novels on the amount of things Gray had lied to  _ her  _ about _ . _

“I was… um… trying to avoid him prying into something else.”

“Toby doesn’t seem like the type who takes to prying…” Benedita looks thoughtful, “Remember how much convincing it took just to get him in on… whatever it is with you two and your friend?”

“I’d only just met him at the time, I didn’t know him that well then.”

“Was it about why you left Melbourne?” Rosalind asks, quietly. 

Matt turns to look at her. She’s not surprised. 

“How did you figure that out?” She asks, knowing that it’s a basic trap. But it doesn’t matter if Rosalind’s bluffing or not, she would never ask if she wasn’t already sure. Sometimes, Matt feels like every conversation with her is just confirmation in disguise. 

“You talk about it strangely, if you ever talk about at all,” Rosalind shrugs, “It’s strange enough for a teenager to be living in a city so far from home by herself, even stranger when she treats the whole place like a bad memory.”

“I never told you I was there alone.”

“I’ve learnt to make inferences. Word of advice, Benedita,” Rosalind turns to her, “Manipulation is just weaponising knowledge. And if you don’t have knowledge, deduction always works.”

Matt’s one of the few who keeps their past quiet. Technically, they all should be, but it’s not a rule particularly observed. Rosalind is one of the other few to keep her past in mystery. And it was a shame, really. It was the one that piqued Matt’s curiosity most. 

***

They sailed through Roundabout’s class, and Rosalind was the sole one to thank for that. There was a reason he picked her, after all. 

There was another sparring session with Brunt after that. Matt was tired and her ribs were aching. Considering the fact that her ribs were a) quite large in comparison to her other body parts, and b) directly beneath her head, she’d think that she’d be better at protecting them, but no. She’d won the fight, of course, but Michiko had taken advantage of an opening. And Michiko hit  _ hard. _

Toby was beside her. He was barely holding himself up. There was a nasty bruise resting on his cheekbone, like poorly blended highlighter. They were at the back of the group, looking forward to getting back to the dorms and sleeping for an age.

Matt wanted to just lie down. But then she had work to do. As the year was drawing to a close the Faculty had started to up the ante. It was mid September and  _ already  _ they were being prepared for their final exams. Their first heist, should all go well, was set for December. 

Matt doesn’t want to admit that it scares her a little. It feels so final, so definitive. She knows that her fate was sealed the moment Toby called Countess Cleo back in that ballroom, but this feels like the final blocking of all her escape routes. 

How had she deviated so far? Her life was supposed to be a set plan. The moment she had gotten her acceptance letter she knew her own fate. She knew she could live life on her own terms, then. Success would come no matter what. It was what had always been set in store for her. 

At least, it had been. Matt knows she’s gifted. She knows she’s talented. She knows that she was the best fucking dancer in that entire school.

But she also knows that she threw it all away for pathetic vindication.

God, she was stupid.

“Oh, not again,” Toby hisses, breaking her reverie.

“What?”

“They’re eyeing us again. Those operatives.”

Matt knows better than to look. It was a month since Toby alerted her to their little… trio of stalkers. But apparently it had started back in July. She rolls her eyes, looking straight ahead.

“Tigress, right?”

“Yeah, and those two guys with her.”

“What is their  _ deal? _ ” she huffs in a whisper. “They’re obsessed with us!”

“I think Paper Star told them about us sneaking around. I guess they might not be too happy with that.”

“Yes, but I am  _ this _ close to setting Matthias on them, Toby.  _ This _ close!” 

Matthias turns around at the sound of his name, “Hey, I am not a rabid dog you can just  _ set _ on people.”

“One of them’s French, Matthias.”

“Oh,” He turns back around, “Nevermind, then. Carry on.” 

“There’s also the possibility that they’re aware of the whole Gray situation,” Toby tells her.

“That doesn’t explain why they’re  _ stalking  _ us.”

“It does,” he murmurs, “If they knew Gray, and know we know him too.”

“You reckon that they’re holding a grudge against us because we knew someone who worked for Carmen Sandiego?”

“Well, maybe. But there might be another possibility,” Toby says, “What if we’re going about this the wrong way? What if Gray never worked for Carmen at all?”

“What do you mean? We’ve already discussed this, Carmen would never come to a VILE agent for help, amnesiac or no.”

“Yes, but there might be another possibility…”

“Yes, but if you keep focusing on the potentials you’ll never find a definitive. Tigress and the Cubs could just be fucking weird for all we know, unless we have more evidence to the contrary we can never say for sure. We need to find proof.”

“And we don’t have the time for that, right now,” Toby says, shortly.

Matt sighs, “No. No, we don’t have time for that.”

***

Matt knows that Toby’s planning to tell her something. He’s lying on his bed, holding an ice pack up to his cheekbone, and he’s preluding something. She sits on his desk chair, one knee to her chest, the other brushing the floor. 

“You would tell me if I picked a bad codename, right?”

And there it is. Matt keeps her disinterest silent.

“What are you thinking of?” She asks.

Toby’s quiet. She swings the chair around. 

“I won’t laugh, Toby.”

Toby mumbles something unintelligible. Matt raises an eyebrow.

“I didn’t-”

“Magpie.” Toby bursts out. “Magpie.”

“You want your codename to be… Magpie?”

“Maybe! I don’t know I just really like magpies and I think they’re cool and I had a family of them that I used to vibe with and I miss them a lot and I also used to sing to them sometimes but then I had a really good idea for an aesthetic to go along with the codename and I just figured go with it! But now that I say it out loud it kinda sounds really stupid so maybe not, though? I don’t know.” Toby, finished gesticulating wildly, puts the ice pack back on his face. 

“Okay…” She begins, “That was a lot of new information. I thought you hated magpies?”

“What? I’ve never hated magpies!”

“But you’re always eyeing them like they’re gonna attack you…”

“That’s because I didn’t want to accidentally be mean to them! Anyway, Forks and Spoons and I were tight. And Sporks 1 and 2… I used to sing to them.”

“You sing?”

Toby smiles languidly, “No.” 

It quickly fades as he looks anxiously at her, though, “But, what do you think?”

Magpie… it’s strange, but she doesn’t entirely mind it on him. Fursona it may be, but she could see it work.

“What’s this aesthetic you’ve got?” She asks, smiling at him.

Toby perks up, “Well, I was thinking of going with a James Bond style sort of thing. Like black suit, white accents, bit of embroidery on the back, y’know?”

Matt nods, “How are you gonna keep your face covered, though?”   
  


“I mean, we don’t have to cover our faces, it’s not a requi-”

“Masquerade mask,” she cuts him off.

“Masquerade mask?”   
  


Matt nods, “Masquerade mask.”

Toby leans back on the pillow. He smiles at the ceiling, “I’ll see what I can do. But you like the name, right? Please say you like the name.”

“Yes, Toby, I like the name.”

Matt swings around on the chair lazily. Satisfied with the conclusion of Toby’s dilemma, she’s glad it’s no longer something she’s forced to think about. 

“What about your name, though?” Toby asks.

Ah. Madison Wells speaks too soon. 

“I haven’t thought of any yet.”

“You’re disinterested in the whole idea.”

She should’ve known better than to expect that Toby wouldn’t notice her silences.

“Yes, I am,” She lies through her teeth. Such a shame she knows how to do it so well, “I just don’t think it’s that big of a deal. I mean, I’ll figure it out when I figure it out.” 

“But surely you must have some idea, right? Like, a vague notion.”

“Nope, nothing.”

Toby sits up to face her. A droplet of water runs down his cheek. He’s still holding the ice pack. 

“It’s not that big of a deal, right?” He asks, cocking his head gently to one side. 

Matt narrows her eyes slightly, “No, it isn’t.”

“So why are you lying about it?”

Shit.

“I’m not?” She asks, trying to cover the shock that she feels down her arms but knows shows on her face. Has Toby been able to tell when she’s been lying this whole time? How much does he know? Has it all been for nothing?

“You get this weird look whenever it comes up. Like… I don’t know, but it’s not exactly the face of someone who’d really rather that we talk about literally  _ anything _ else.”

If it’s anything, she’s glad he didn’t say she had a tell. She would open the window and jump out of it if he told her she had a  _ tell. _

Toby gives her a concerned look, “Come on, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, Toby. It was probably just boredom. I just don’t care about the codenames.”

“Look, if you don’t want to talk about it just say so. But stop pretending that everything’s okay when there is clearly something wrong.”

“I’m not-” She stops, suddenly. Because Toby’s already looking disbelieving. Because she’s ready to give up.

“Okay, okay fine. I have an idea for a codename and I have no reason not to use it except for the fact that it kinda brings up some harsh memories. I don’t know what to do.”

“I mean, you don’t have to use it if it reminds you of something bad,” Toby says. “What were you thinking of? You don’t have to tell me-”

“No, it’s fine,” Matt’s given up, she might as well tell him. Maybe she could face the truth, now. “I was thinking of my codename being Giselle.”

After everything, she feels like her announcement should have caused a tense, dramatic, silence. A dramatic swell of music, perhaps? But Toby just blinks at her, and there she realises that the atmosphere was never there.

“Giselle?” He looks confused, “Like the ballet character?”

“Exactly like the ballet character. It was, well, it still technically  _ is _ , one of my dream roles. My go to competition piece, the whole deal.”

“Wait, you did competitions?” Toby asks, “I mean, I knew you danced, that was obvious, but you competed? I never thought you were that serious about it.”

“Toby,” Matt might as well just tell him. Confess. Let the truth set her free, or whatever. She thinks, maybe she needs it. She pauses, “I was in the Australian Ballet School.”

Toby doesn’t respond immediately. Matt waits for him to compute.

“Wait, like  _ the _ Australian Ballet School? Not the Australian Ballet, Australian Ballet School, right?”

“Is there any other Australian Ballet School?”

Toby’s eyes go wide.

“Matt, what?! Why didn’t you say anything, holy shit!”

“Oh, calm down, it’s nothing special,” she spits it out, contemptuous, “It’s not like I’m there now, am I?”

Understanding suddenly washes over Toby’s face. He lets out a soft  _ oh. _

“You got injured, didn’t you?” He asks. Because of course he would think that, it makes sense. It’s the logical conclusion. But she shakes her head.

“No, I got kicked out.” 

She’s never said it out loud before. She’s never needed to. Word got around too fast for her to ever tell anyone at the school. It was by Margot’s hand, and could Matt really blame her? Matt was too shellshocked to even register that at the time. And after that it was straight to Sydney. Some final attempt to crawl back to her best memory. The only one left untainted. To ponder the fact that her life peaked at 15. Nothing had made Matt want to throw herself off a bridge more. 

But nobody needed to know that in Sydney. Nobody had needed to know how she got there. Not Toby. Not Gray. Not anybody. Her exile was hers, and hers alone. 

And now it’s all come out. Now she has to deal with Toby’s shocked confusion. His soft questions. The… understanding on his face?

“You took it too far, didn’t you?” He asks, shortly. Matt reels. He knows her, Toby knows her. And somehow, she finds comfort in that.

She could tell him anything and he would understand. 

“I did. It was stupid. It was ridiculous. But I did it anyway.”

“What happened?” Toby asks. 

“I… there was a girl in my class. Margot. She was pretty, and she liked me, and well… we ended up getting together.”

“Wait, you’re-”

“Bi.” Matt cuts him off. Toby nods in understanding, and then snorts. 

“What?”

“Oh, nothing, it’s just,” Toby smiles to himself. “That makes three of us.”

Matt rolls her eyes, and continues.

“I was her first girlfriend, but everything was fine, for a while. But…” she looks away, Toby’s gaze feels a little too piercing, “Margot started getting jealous, jealous of my guy friends, paranoid that I was cheating. There was one in particular - Jacob - we were really close and she didn’t like it. She gave me an ultimatum. I broke up with her.”

“How is that going too far?” Toby asks, bemused, “You were right. She should never have-”

“And then I sabotaged her audition.”

“Oh,” Toby says, dumbfounded, “Oh,  _ shit. _ ”

“Yeah,” Matt wishes she could say that she pulled out at the last minute. That she regretted it and confessed. That she had one ounce of remorse before she got found out. But she didn’t. Not until she was caught. Matt had never pictured her actions having true consequences. The idea had been so foreign to her, that sort of thing never happened to  _ her. _

So when it did, reality finally came crashing in. In the worst possible way.

“But I got caught,” she continues, “Her audition was rescheduled, and the Australian Ballet rescinded my contract. I was a month off graduating, but that didn’t matter. They kicked me out.”

The worst moment was when her parents found out. Everyone else, she could deal with, but not them. 

Matt realises, suddenly, that that’s the truth of it. That’s why she ran. That’s why she came to Sydney in the first place. It was never to punish herself. Never to cut herself off in the harshest possible way.

In Sydney, nobody knew what she had done. 

It was never atonement for her sins. 

It was avoidance.

And she was done.

“I couldn’t bear going back to Byron, I think it would’ve killed me,” She says, “So I came to the only other place I really knew. I got a job, got an apartment and I told myself that I was never going to dance again. And then I met you, and then Gray, and well… now we’re here, I guess.”

Matt had just wanted to stop feeling like a fish out of water. That was what made her talk to Toby in the first place. It had never become more apparent that she had never worked a day in her life than in her first few days at the Opera House, and the loneliness of her predicament was starting to eat at her. It wasn’t in her nature to keep to herself, try as she might, Matt needed a friend. Or at least an acquaintance. Anybody. And, confident as she was, the quiet, introverted bartender genuinely seemed like one of the few people there who wouldn’t eat her alive.

So she’d introduced herself. Met him under false pretences. That was where her secrets started. Toby had a strange smile, she’d always remembered that.

“Shit, Matt,” Toby breathes, and she wonders if that’s all he can say, “That’s…”

“I know. I know! Trust me, I get it! Everything was set out for me and I fucked it. But I never learnt. I never learn!” Matt’s voice rises. “I like it! I don’t know why but I like it! I know it’s horrible but I can never stop. I knew exactly what I was doing when I sabotaged her audition, and I only ever regretted it when I got caught! I’m just…” she sighs, “Not that good of a person, Toby. I’ve accepted that fact for so long… but I never regretted it.”

Toby looks at her and for a horrifying moment she genuinely fears that he might hate her after this. But then she reminds herself that it’s Toby. He knows her. 

One of the biggest comforts that Sydney brought to her was him and Gray. They knew her. They could never hate her.

Of course, it wasn’t enough for her to be honest with them, but it was the thought that counted.

“Do you regret it now?” Toby asks, gently.

“I… yes. Actually. I do,” It comes as a surprise to her. She hates regretting things, hates apologising. 

But she’s learnt. She’s still learning.

“Then maybe you’re not as bad of a person as you think. I mean, I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

“Yeah, but of course you don’t. If you were friends with a bad person then you’d be bad by association. You can’t let yourself do that.”

“That’s not what I meant- oh, whatever,” Toby sighs, “If it means anything, I think Giselle would be a great codename for you. I can picture it, in my head. Outfit and everything.”

“You can?”

“Yeah. But we don’t have to go through with it if you don’t want to, I mean, it’s your decision.”

Matt’s done with the avoidance, now. She has to face the truth. And the truth is this is the closest she’s ever going to get to what she’d wanted for so long.

And maybe, just maybe, she’s okay with that.

“You know what? Screw it, I’m going with it.”

Toby smiles, strange and sharp.

“Okay,” he begins, and she can already see his mind running a mile a minute, “Here’s what I’m thinking…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: noooo you can't give another character a bird themed codename!!!!!! It's stupid!!!!111
> 
> Also me: hahahaha Magpie go brrrrrrrrr!


	39. Gray, Illicit Mechanic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gray's mechanics are questioned. He's sent to offer comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof I've been a bit burnt out lately so I've pulled back a little bit to get my bearings. The biggest problem with submitting my Ext 2 project is now I feel like I need 500 million edits before its barely readable. I still don't think this is ready for publishing but I'll be back for it.
> 
> Also my formal got cancelled which isn't that big of a deal I know but we only ever get one formal in our school lives so I'm a little sad.

“Hey, Earth to Graham. You’re spacing out on us again.”

Ivy flicked him on the cheek, snapping him out of his reverie. She was a particularly tactile person, never averse to physical affection (Zack was the same, his affection only really came in contact), and it awoke the touch-hunger in him that he had been suppressing for years. It almost kills him to avoid it, even more so to keep it from looking like he was avoiding it. It never does well for him to get too close. 

Particularly not with Carmen’s friends, anymore.

“Hm? Oh, sorry, what were you saying?” 

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Carmen. But it also wasn’t that he _ did. _ Gray knows that it’s a stupid idea to trust the word of a VILE agent that he just met, but he also knows that it would be stupid to ignore the things Tigress said.

No one could be so accurate on a guess. No one. No matter how much she knew about him.

But how much did VILE know about him? They were holding the two people closest to him in the world, the two people who knew him best, how much information did they have? How much information did Matt and Toby give them, and how did VILE get it? The thought makes him feel sick, fear and guilt at once. Makes him feel like his blood’s turned acidic.

Though that raises a completely different question. Why him? Why torture his friends for information on him? He wasn’t that close to Carmen when Matt and Toby were taken, and Lorikeet didn’t realise who he was in Harajuku, so what about him was worth the effort? Why was Tigress so insistent that he distrust Carmen, specifically? What was the point of any of it? He had nothing to offer her, nothing to offer VILE, if they wanted to threaten Carmen, wanted to target him, his friends’ mutilated remains would be somewhere en route to his doorstep. 

Gray pushed the thought away. All he could do was deny its possibility, before it consumed him completely.

  
  
“I wasn’t saying anything,” Ivy said, hand on his arm, “You’ve been really spacey, you good?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

“Quarantine bugging you, huh?” Ivy asked, “I know the feeling.”

Gray just shrugged. It was a bad idea to tell her what was going on. He had kept his promise to Amelia and hadn’t touched Carmen’s workroom, but there had been too many moments in which he had to bite down his better urges, remind himself that he couldn’t break a promise to her, and walk by. It was his own fault, though. Should never have let Amelia get into a place where she knew him well enough to know if he’d broken a promise. And he didn’t want to betray her trust. 

The worst part of him, the recesses of his chest that rattled and ached, reminded him that he should never have let her put him in a position like that. 

“Morning,” Amelia’s yawn rang out, as she walked into the kitchen behind him. Her hair was still in its head scarf and she was wearing her lilac pyjamas today, the ones with the black stars. She put two slices of raisin toast in the toaster and leant against the counter, “What are our plans for this fine, fine, sunny day?”

“Oh, you know,” Zack starts, across from Ivy at the table “Staying inside, remaining indoors, rejecting the idea of departing the household, resting in a tiny, tiny, box as I slowly go insane and lose every last ounce of my will to live from now until forever!”

“Cool!” Amelia said, “Gray, what about you?”

“Uhh, same as Zack. I dunno yet.”

“Zack, calm down,” Carmen said, already dressed and on the couch, talking to them from the open doorway to the kitchen, “You’ll live.”

“That’s easy for you to say, boss, you can leave whenever you want,” Zack looked around in abject horror, “I can feel these walls closing in on me…”

“Well, I think I’m gonna mess around in the workshop a bit more,” Ivy said, “Graham, Amelia, you’re free to join me, if you want.”

“Maybe I will,” Amelia looked thoughtful. “I’ve got some other stuff I wanna do, though.”

“Does it involve your Animal Crossing village?” Gray asked. Amelia rolled her eyes.

“_Island, _Gray. And yes, it is. I am going to get that 5 star rating if it kills me.”

Apparently things have changed since the last time Gray played it. Ivy, beside him, grabbed his arm suddenly, yet as subtly as she could manage. Her grip was enough to make him turn to her.

“Hey, I wanna talk to you for a sec,” she murmured. Her quietness was what caught his attention, “Meet me in the workshop when you’re done, okay?”  
  


Gray furrowed his brows, almost imperceptibly, tilting his head in a question he didn’t ask aloud. But Ivy just stood up and took her plate to the sink.

“I’m gonna get to it, I’ll see you guys later,” she left them all there, Gray still confused. Curiosity winning out, he followed her out of the kitchen.

***

Ivy’s workshop was religiously categorised. It was on the first floor of the house, and it was small, and windowless, but very clean. One wall was lined with drawers, each one labelled with Ivy’s scrawl, and the rest were lined with benches that looked like they were cleaned with industrial grade supplies. At least, Ivy’s were. The bench that Gray had so cruelly torn from her grasp, the one in the far back corner, was covered in debris, Gray knowing the placement and order of every piece of it. Ivy pretends it doesn’t bother her. He knows it does. 

Ivy herself swung around on her stool when Gray walked through the open door. Her own, meticulous blueprints were pinned up to the wall behind her. 

“You wanted to talk to me about something?” He asks.

“Yeah,” she said, “I’ve been wondering about what you’ve been working on. You’ve been sneaking in here at night, what’s happening?”  
  


Gray really wouldn’t call it sneaking. Sneaking implied that there was a layer of stealth to the process, and there really wasn’t. Getting into the workshop was easy, he didn’t even have to lie about where he was going. The secrecy lied in what he was _ doing, _and it was for that purpose that he furrowed his eyebrows and looked confused.

“It’s not exactly sneaking, I just keep kinda weird hours. I’m sorry if it disturbs you, I didn’t mean to...”

He trailed off at the sight of what Ivy was holding. The little capsule that had been months of his time. Lorikeet’s Red Belly, built with his own two hands. His stomach sank.

“Graham, why do you have this?”  
  


“You can call me - wait, not the point here. Why were you snooping around in my stuff?!”

“Because, Graham, I didn’t spend half my life raising Zack not to be able to tell when someone’s hiding something from me. Call it elder sister sense. What are you doing with this?” 

Gray sighed, internally. There was never any rule expressly saying that he _ couldn’t _ make the Red Bellies, and it was that loophole that he exploited meticulously. But he knew that it wasn’t something that Carmen would exactly be _ happy _ with, and clueing Ivy in was a one-track guide to Carmen’s attention. Gray knew when to count his losses. 

“Okay, first off, I was never planning on actually using it.”

“How many have you made?” Ivy demanded.

“Just the one. That’s the prototype,” There were three more that Gray was smart enough to keep in his pillowcase, but the prototype part was true. He never thought to take it up with the rest. His mistake.

“Prototype. So you were planning on making more?”

“Look, I was just screwing around! It was just a little side project.”

“I thought we’d all agreed that it was too dangerous to make?” Ivy said. Gray raised an eyebrow at her.

“We never agreed to that.”

“It was heavily implied!”

“No it wasn’t. And again, these weren’t planned for actual use!”

That wasn’t _ exactly _ a lie. Gray still had no idea what he was planning on using them for. 

“That doesn’t matter! It could still seriously hurt someone!”

“It’ll never even leave the house, Ivy.”

“And what if somebody activates it by mistake?”

“Well first off, it’s empty, there’s no poison in it. Second off, the only way it can activate is with my fingerprints, so unless someone _ accidentally _ puts something in it and then _ accidentally _ has me activate and then _ accidentally _ sticks it on themselves, I highly doubt that’ll be a problem.”

Ivy looked down at it, “Wait, exactly how does this work?”

Gray plucked it from her hands and slid into the stool next to hers, “I figured that what Lorikeet was trying to do was set up remote control activation, so I went and did that for her,” He pushed his fingers into the right position, and the Red Belly hummed in response. “My fingerprints basically serve as an unlock mechanism, it can’t work without them. From there, I’ve got a timer set on them - it’s a little hard to work, at the moment - but here,” he set it for five seconds from now, and scanned his fingerprints again. “Here, see?”

The Red Belly didn’t do anything. Then, suddenly and silently, four, long, needle-like prongs burst out.

Ivy let out an appreciative whistle. Then;

“Wait, no, I can’t support this!”

“Look, I get it. It was just a little side project, not planned for actual use. You can destroy it if you want, I don’t mind.”

“I know, Graham, it’s just… this is really dangerous. I don’t know if Carm wants you messing around with stuff like this.”

“Then you can get rid of it.”

“I’m going to tell her. She’ll decide what to do with it.”

Gray sighed. He liked Zack and Ivy, he really did. But he liked less their incessant need to run off to Carmen about _ everything. _

“Fine. Do what you want.”  
  


“Hey, I’m just looking out for you,” Ivy said, “It’s best that we tell Carmen everything ahead of time.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I don’t need protecting, though.”

“And that’s what Zack’s told me all his life, so…”

Fair play. Gray turned around on his stool, facing away from the bench.

“I’m gonna guess your parents were never really in the picture, huh?” He said.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that, but no, they weren’t,” Ivy spun around as well. “And Zack wasn’t exactly... I love him, but, well, y’know.”

“I can imagine.”

“He’s my brother, though. I’d do anything for him. You know what it’s… or well, you don’t have any siblings.”

Gray didn’t correct her. He didn’t feel she needed correcting, it was too pedantic. Anyway, he didn’t consider himself to have any siblings either. It was easier to see Juliet as just a fluke rather than any particular loss. It made everything else her death brought slightly easier to bear. 

“Anyway,” Ivy said, plucking the Red Belly from the bench, “as impressive as this is, I’m gonna have to take it from you.”

“You think it’s impressive?” he whistled, “That’s some strong praise, coming from you.”

“Yeah, well, you’re surprisingly good at this stuff, for an electrician. Where’d you even-” Ivy stopped, suddenly.  
  


“Learn all this stuff?” Gray finished for her, “I was really into robotics back in high school. And my school was kinda known for its science department. Well, all of its departments, really.”

“Must have been some money.”

“It was. I could only go there on academic scholarship, and my parents were pretty well off. Anyway, I liked building things, there was a certain satisfaction in making everything connect.” 

And there’s a certain peace in a live wire. The one that comes with knowing that there is something incredibly, _ incredibly _ dangerous in his hands and knowing he was in complete control of what happened next. It wasn’t that he ever believed he couldn’t hurt himself. It was the fact that he was vividly aware of how easily he _ could. _

It would only take a stray movement. And he was in complete control of it. Paradoxically enough, that’s what kept him calm.

“Why become an electrician, then?” Ivy asked, “Far cry from robotics.”

Gray shrugged. “Everyone wanted me to go to uni. I wanted something else.” 

It was only a half-truth. In reality, he was terrified. Terrified of spending another however many years playing the double life of the perfect academic. Terrified that he would be revealed for the fraud that he is, all his secrets and performances out on display, that everyone would see the liar that he was. Terrified that the rest of his life would just be playing the game of keeping his parents in check. That he would never win and never escape.

It was the closest Gray had ever come to breaking. The closest he had ever come to losing control. And he couldn’t do that, he couldn’t _ ever _ do that. He needed a way out before it all came apart. He needed an intermission.

So he took one.

“What?” Ivy asked. Gray shrugged, again.

“I wanted to see what the rest of the world had to offer. So I decided to pack it up and become a sparkie instead. And where better than the Great Australian Dishrack? Of course, my parents weren’t happy.”

It was for their own good, in the end. But it wasn’t like he could exactly _ explain _ that to them.

“Actually, after a while, I ended up applying for university,” he said, “Got a scholarship, somehow. But then...”

“Your memories...” Ivy started. Gray nodded.

“Yup. Woke up in a hospital bed and three years had passed. Apparently, I had turned it down.”

He doesn’t talk about how he threw up when he was first told what happened to him. It was, as far as he was aware, the only panic attack he’d ever had in his life. And he wasn’t the type of person who could have panic attacks, that was too concerning. But the sheer horror of waking up nearly three and a half years later than when he went to sleep, he thought that was justified, he knew that was justified. 

Anyway, he gained a grip on it not long after that. Tucked it away, neatly, into a space where he could process it.

“I try not to think about it too much,” he said.

Ivy looked at him, concerned, “No offence, but that sounds like the type of thing you should really talk to someone about.”  
  


“I had a therapist, if that’s what you mean.”

“Yeah, but what about now? We’re always here for you if you ever need anything.”

“I know. But I’m fine. Really. I’ve got a grip on it.”

“Oh, of course you do,” Ivy sighed, exasperated. Gray blinked at her, “Zack won’t ever talk about it, either.”

“What do you mean, won’t talk about it?”

Ivy sighed again, “As much as I love working for Carmen there are some points where we get into some really scary situations. And it’s fine for me, I have Carm, we talk about it, we work it out. But Zack just… doesn’t. He says he’s fine… but I don’t know, elder sister sense, I guess.”

Gray sometimes wondered how Zack and Ivy always managed to maintain their dispositions, even in the face of everything. It of course crossed his mind that they may act the exact same way he does, but that never felt quite true. There was too much honesty in them. If he was to make a direct comparison, it reminded him of when he first met Toby, those earnest little lies Toby had told him, the secrets he had kept. All because Toby believed he didn’t have anywhere else to turn.

It was too easy to unravel, if he was honest. All it had taken was the loose thread of a car ride home. When Toby’s sleeve didn’t quite cover the scratches on his arm, too long and too linear to belong to any accident. He had been too quick to cover them, and Gray knew better at that time than to ask too many questions. 

“Hey, I could try talking to him,” he suggested. Ivy raised an eyebrow, “I mean, he might have a reason for not reaching out to you or Carmen, and he doesn’t really have many other options. I don’t know, we’re friends. He might tell me something.”

“You think it’d work?” Ivy asked.

“Won’t know until we try.”

“Well, it won’t do any hurt, I guess. Thanks, Graham.”

Ivy ruffled his hair affectionately. He pulls away, laughing, trying to hide how piercing the affection feels.

***

Gray found Zack on a night where sleep hadn’t, apparently, come easy to either of them. But sleep hadn’t come easy to Gray for almost a year (a year ago this all began, the thought still haunts him), only now he let the hours wane with constant anxiety, Tigress constantly on his mind. She’d started to bleed into his dreams, claws blazing. Sometimes he could feel her split his cheek open, and then every other part of him open, and then she was sobbing as she did it. Other times Lorikeet’s knife was at his throat and Zack was screaming at him for help. Then there were the rats, the burning, the electrocution. There’s the one with Toby and the electric chair, and it almost feels real. But the worst ones were the ones with Carmen in them, when she looked like a mirage and his chest began to rattle with rage and he woke up gasping.

If it was any consolation, at least he didn’t wake up talking anymore. 

He found Zack in the kitchen, but Zack was always in the kitchen. More specifically, Zack was at the dining table and armed to the teeth with a sandwich. He jumped when Gray greeted him.

“Shit, did anyone ever tell you how quiet you are?”

“You pick up a thing or two working backstage, trust me,” Gray sat across from him. It’s past midnight, his gut tells him, he never bothered to check the time when he pulled the covers off, having given up completely on sleep. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Zack asked.

“Can I ever?”

“I dunno. I’m not the expert on your sleeping patterns.”

Gray snorts, “Very funny. Anyway, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Yeah?” Zack cocks his head. “Shoot.”

“I wanted to apologise, about what happened with Lorikeet. You could’ve been killed and it was my fault. I’m sorry.”

Zack stares at him, completely nonplussed.

“Dude, it was months ago. If I was mad at you I would’ve said something.”

“I know, but-”

“Did Ivy put you up to this?”

Zack looks suspiciously at him, and Gray sighs to himself. Zack may have been an idiot, but not that type of idiot.

“No. But I did tell her,” He said. 

Zack sighed, “Look, I love her, I do. But she’s gotta stop worrying about me so much. I’m my own man. I can look after myself!”

“Zack, _ I _ get nightmares about what happened. If you’re fine with it then respect to you, mate, but I’m not gonna hold it against you if you’re not.”

“You get nightmares about that?”

“I can’t lose another friend. Not again,” It clicks in Zack’s mind, and he gives Gray a sympathetic look.

“Gray. It’s okay. Really, man, I’m fine. I’m used to this sort of thing.”

“Yeah, but that’s not healthy, or good? How do you even handle that?”

“I… I just do. It’s not like I can talk to anyone about it. It just stresses Ivy out.”

“It stresses her out more when you won’t talk to her.”

“She already has enough stuff to deal with.”

“You’re her brother. You’re not something she just ‘deals with’. She just wants to know that you have someone you’re willing to talk to.”

“And you’re down to do that?”

“Of course. After all, we’re mates, aren’t we?”

Zack smiled, “Well, honestly, I wasn’t actually that scared when Lorikeet first pulled the knife on me. It’s not the first time something like that has happened, I’m used to it. I just keep talking, at first it was some nervous thing but basically if I’m ever in a bad situation I talk. And talk. I was only actually scared when you started pleading with her. I didn’t know what you were gonna do, or if you could even handle the situation. That’s why I made a move for the knife.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t know what Lorikeet was going to do. Anyway, I’ve done dumber shit in the past and I’m still alive. I don’t blame you.”

“Yeah, but-”

“What happened to your friends wasn’t your fault either,” Gray looks away, he knows it’s true but he can’t hold Zack’s gaze, “VILE was just… looking to get at you. That’s on them, not you. They made that choice. It’s not your fault.”

“I know. I know that.”

“I just, feel bad whenever I try to talk to Ivy. Or anyone, really. Like, I know they won’t mind but they have to deal with so much and, I don’t know, my problems are just kinda… they’re not really on the same level. Well, it’s not that they don’t matter, it’s...”

“I get it. You feel like you can’t justify your problems in comparison to everyone else’s. I know. But trust me when I say that you don’t need to. Ivy and Carmen aren’t going to go around critically analysing your right to be upset about things.”

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna feel… y’know…”

“Selfish?”

“Yeah.”

“Toby once told me something similar. His mum had thrown a plate at him and he’d fallen on the shards. He’d come to me bleeding cause he didn’t know where to go. And he wouldn’t admit that it was a problem because he was lucky. He was rich, after all. I think he knew deep down that it wasn’t right, but he just kept telling himself he could handle it. Anyway,”

Gray paused, “What I’m trying to say is that personal issues aren’t exactly, well, linear. There’s not an official ranking for what you’re allowed to reach out to people with. Ivy and Carmen care about you. I care about you. We want you to know that you can talk to us.”

“Thanks, man. But about the whole Lorikeet thing, I really am fine.”

“I trust you, then. But if you ever need anything...”

“I know. I’m gonna head up to bed now,” Zack stood up and, to Gray’s surprise, hugged him, “Thanks, mate. Also, you’re really warm.”

“That’s... not actually the first time I’ve been told that.”  
  


Zack left him alone, and he reminds himself to get a grip. It wasn’t like he could spend his life losing his shit every time someone gave him an ounce of affection. He’s done partner work, after all (then again, that was a bit of a bad example, considering). He didn’t know what it was about Zack and Ivy.

Maybe it was just a sibling thing. That would explain it. Of course Gray didn’t get it.

***

It was two weeks later, on a morning that dawned hot and humid, when it felt like everything had been smothered in damp cotton buds, already the day was teasing rain when Gray woke up. And he knew it was going to be a bad one. 

He didn’t know why. Maybe because the weather reminded him of Sydney summers. Maybe because just a year ago he was in his apartment with his friends and he knew where they were, and he was the reason they were gone. Maybe it was because he had to pretend that he was completely fine, completely trusting, completely believing of everything Carmen told him. Or maybe it was just the universe fucking with him. 

But all he knew was that every wound he thought had healed was festering. He could barely bring himself to get out of bed.

Amelia perched at his doorway worriedly, unsure how to broach the subject. She approached, eventually and timidly, placing a drink on his bedside table and resting a hand on his shoulder. 

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“Would you like me to stay?” She asked.

He shook his head. She had already done enough. He couldn’t keep putting her in these situations. Amelia looked at him, like she was going to insist on staying, but left him, closing the door gently behind her. He heard her footsteps, determined, judging by the weight, slowly fade away. 

The mug was warm in his hands. He couldn’t bring himself to drink it, but he sapped the heat out of it, holding it close to him. Amelia always seemed to know exactly what he needed, and that bothered him even more. She shouldn’t know, she shouldn’t have to deal with him when he was like this. It wasn’t her place. Gray knew she was an adult, but there had always been far too much weight on her shoulders for someone as young as she was. He didn’t know how she managed it, he was probably a complete idiot at nineteen.

He wishes he could remember when he was nineteen at all.

There was a gentle rap on his door. He raises his head, and it feels like too much of an effort.

“Yeah?”

Carmen opens his door slowly. He looks at her, surprised. She nearly always keeps her distance when he’s like this.

“Amelia told me you were in a bad way. What’s happening?” She sat down on the end of his bed.

“Honestly, I have no idea.”

“Just one of those days?”

“I guess…”

“You know, you can talk about it if you want.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, really.”

“Uh huh. And then the next day you’re blowing up at me over some perceived insult and spilling it all anyway. Graham, no offence, but you’re emotionally constipated.”

“I’m not emotionally constipated!” He said. He was emotionally _ performative. _ There was a _ difference. _ Gray was in touch with his emotions, he touched them heaps when he was shoving them deep down inside of himself. 

“You know, I always got the sense that you were keeping something tucked away. I never quite knew what it was, or if it ever mattered. But you’re the type of person who hides a fever until he faints and then tries to shove it off like it’s no big deal after he’s gone and freaked everyone out and not even understand what the problem is even though people _ genuinely _ thought he was dying or something and yeah, sure it was just a fever but _ they _ didn’t know that!” Carmen paused. Gray stared at her. “Where was I?”

“I’m emotionally repressed.”

“Right. My point is, you pretend you’re fine until things get too much to handle and you break and get hurt. Then you act like it’s fine afterwards because you talked about it, but really prevention is kinda better because people don’t like seeing you in pain.”

People don’t see him in pain. That’s the whole point. 

“So, what’s going on?”

“Genuinely, I don’t know. Some days are just… bad, I guess. Some days I can’t stop thinking about them.”

“I know, it’s hard, isn’t it?”  
  


“I… I… I feel trapped. I’m stuck. I don’t know where to go or who to turn to. All I know is that they were my friends and I loved them and now they’re gone and part of me thinks it’s my fault. And everytime I think I’m closer to _ some _ sort of answer everything just gets more complicated and I- I-”

It was almost as if he had forgotten how to speak. Carmen covers his hands with hers.

“They still are your friends, you still love them, and _ nothing _ of what happened was your fault,” she tells him, firmly.

“But, I- Carmen, there was more going on in Sydney than you- I did some things-”

“That doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what you did, or what you caused, you are not responsible for what happened to your friends. They - VILE - made the choice, not you. You _ cannot _ get hung up on what you could’ve done differently. You have to keep moving forward.”

“I know, I know, just… I miss them. I miss them and it’s unbearable.”

“That’s okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I want this all to stop. I want to stop feeling like this, Carmen, I just wish I had a way out, but I don’t! I have to face it and I know that I will come out the other side but right now I just don’t know if I can. I’m paranoid, I’m on edge, it feels like everyone around me is out to get me and I don’t know what to do anymore! I just… wish… I wish…”

He didn’t realise there were tears in his eyes until he saw the look on Carmen’s face. And for a moment there was something in her eyes that made him wonder why he ever mistrusted her in the first place.

“Graham…”

“Gray,” He said, suddenly and perhaps a little rashly. Carmen stared at him, dumbstruck.

“What?”  
  


“Just call me Gray, it’s easier, honestly.”

Carmen was still staring at him. He didn’t know what was going on inside her head, all he knew was that she was staring at him with some great, indescribable emotion on her face.

“Are- are you sure?”

“Why is everyone so surprised by-”

Carmen threw her arms around his shoulders. There was something desperate in it, but all Gray was aware of was that fact that Carmen was so close to him, that he could feel her hair against his cheek, that she smelt of cinnamon perfume and that she was holding him like he was a lifeline. And it made him ache.

But it also made everything fall into place. 

Slowly, yet surely, he found himself hugging Carmen back. And it made a cacophony out of his mind, made his tears stain her shirt, but he doesn’t pull back, doesn’t pull away. He knows, now. Knows what to do. Who to trust.

He holds her a little tighter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want a nap bottom text.


	40. Toby, and the Final Exams from Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toby gets into a fight. Multiple, actually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no notes am on the bus and dont wanna be caught

The tension in the living room of the boy’s dormitory was crystal clear and diamond sharp. There wasn’t a word that was spoken calmly, the nerves were bleeding into everyone’s system, poisoning every part of them. Toby understood why, though.

Their first exam was tomorrow.

He wasn’t ready. He was not remotely ready. He knew that in his gut, he knew that he wasn’t prepared for what came next. It was November already and he felt like he’d just barely adjusted to his life here. But if he passed the exams…

Well, then it would be their first heist, their final test. But if they pulled that off…

There was no turning back now, that Toby knew. He had no choice but to become enamoured in this life he chose. 

And he was enamoured with it. At least, the part of it that was currently hanging in his wardrobe. The part of it that sat in a small box on his bedside table, that he opened on occasion just to stare at it, the mask, to trace his finger over the dots around the border. He’d tried it on for the first time a week ago and barely felt like himself. He’d become something better, something more, suddenly all he could see was the potential. Every past version of himself had been a buildup to this. From here, anything was possible.

Lorikeet had let out an appreciative whistle. It was enough for Toby to bear dealing with her. He should be grateful, he knew that, after all, he wouldn’t have had the mask at all if it wasn’t for Lorikeet’s help, he had planned to go at it alone and figure it out from there. But apparently there was a tradition that had gone on for as long as anyone at VILE could remember; the older operatives always made the uniforms for the new initiates. Anyone who had the skills to pitch in, did. Toby couldn’t wait to help the initiates after him, but he mustn’t think ahead. He had to graduate from being an initiate himself.

His wasn’t finished yet, though. They had saved his for last, considering the complex nature of what he was asking for, to make sure that as many uniforms as possible got done before the deadline. It was just the jacket that was taking so long, the embroidery was complex and finicky and something Toby had planned to do himself, but was rejected out of hand. He had the pants and the shirt, though, black and white respectively, made out of a light, VILE designed fabric that was apparently supposed to shield him from most wounds. 

Toby couldn’t wait for the jacket to be done. It was supposed to be finished by Thursday, but Coach Brunt had, albeit unwillingly, made an exception in the event that it wasn’t. 

But Thursday was also the day that Toby was dreading most. There was a reason the uniforms had to be done by then, after all. It was because they had to do their hand-to-hand combat exams in them.

It was supposed to be in order to test how they moved in them. Everyone had already had a chance to practice in theirs, Toby semi-included, and in the world’s most predictable plot twist, a pretty suit didn’t make him remotely a better fighter. 

But Toby tried not to think about that too much.

Their first exam was with Countess Cleo, as was the second. Artifact analysis and etiquette respectively, and that was what they were preparing for. Those of them in the boys living room who weren’t poring over books, trying desperately to pull details and dates out of their memory, were trying to balance every amount of objects on their head, trying to talk with the right smile and the right volume, to eat with the right utensils at the right time. It was everything that came second nature to Toby. He was raised by etiquette’s hand long before anyone else’s.

“You’re slouching again,” he said to Chae-Min, who let out a sharp, grumpy, exhale, slouching further. “Here, may I?”

Chae-Min nodded, but he still tensed a little when Toby gently placed a hand on his back, nudging him up.

“Pull your shoulders back a little - not that much - imagine it like you’re opening your chest out. The rest of you should follow from there.”

Chae-Min corrected himself, and the result was anything but a human standing comfortably. Toby let out the most miniscule of sighs, bearing in mind that Chae-Min was terrified of wrongdoing. At least, wrongdoing outside of larceny. And illegal weaponry. Toby moved around to place his hands on Chae-Min’s shoulders. 

“You don’t have to think of it as exposure,” he told him, quietly, because Toby had been in Chae-Min’s position, “It’s a disguise. Think of it as a disguise. Like a mask. Nobody knows you, nobody knows what you’re thinking. You stand up straight and all they see is a handsome young man. Nothing more.”

Chae-Min fought against the half-smile playing on his lips, but relaxed. Toby smiled at him. Michiko patted him on the shoulder. 

“Okay, now try it again.”

Chae-Min did. Toby nodded approvingly.

“It’s late, everybody,” Matthias said, “There’s no point in studying further.”

“You’re right,” Rosalind agreed, “If we lose too much sleep we’ll just make all this studying redundant.”

There were murmurs of assent throughout the room, as everyone, unnerved into silence, stood, gathering their books. The girls all left them behind. Matt looked pale, more drawn and diminished than she ever had been, but she got up with a suspicious amount of determination.

“Go to sleep, Giselle, seriously,” Matthias said, “You need it.”

Matt sighed, but didn’t respond. Toby squeezed her shoulders affectionately. 

“Come on,” he said, “Let’s get some sleep. We all need it.”

Everyone nodded, and the living room slowly emptied as they headed upstairs. Toby hoped that the feeling as if it was his last night alive was communal.

***

Kolya woke each one of them up the next morning, as the dawn was a light grey and the sun wasn’t entirely in the sky yet, and Toby felt the swooping feeling in his stomach as anxiety set in the moment he opened his eyes.

The rest of them got ready while Kolya left to check on the girls. Toby put on his training uniform, wondering if this would be one of the last times he would wear it. He brushed his teeth and fixed his hair, sorting through the tangles in the curls he had previously missed. His mother had been obsessed with keeping his hair under control. She had taken a crusade with a comb, spending seemingly hours scratching and pulling at it until it was something he deemed feasible. He hated combs, now, despised them with a passion, but Bertie had had it worse than he did. At least his hair was short. 

God, he wished he could see her again.

But it was Gray who had told him that his hair looked nicer natural. Toby had slept over and hadn’t had a chance to fix it. Gray had mentioned, probably completely offhandedly, that he liked his hair better like that, and Toby had barely believed him. It was only when he finally had the chance to decide what to do with his hair for himself did he take Gray’s words into account. 

Sufficiently prepared Toby found Matt and the other girls already downstairs. Chae-Min and Michiko were cooking, the rest of them were spread out among the room, desperately trying to fit in some last minute study. Benedita was conducting what appeared to a very spirited lecture. Matt smiled when she saw him.

“You ready?” She asked.

“I guess” he replied, “You?”

Matt shrugged as he joined her at the table.

  
  


***

Toby didn’t actually think he did that badly. Of course, Toby had learnt over the years not to trust his mind on such matters as his exam performances, but he left Countess Cleo’s room with a sense of confidence he didn’t have upon entering. It felt like a weight off his shoulders. 

Of course, he had another exam tonight, but he wasn’t too worried about that. He had it on a fair basis that he was going to sail through  _ that. _

“How’d you go?” Matt asked him, “I reckon I did okay, but I felt Bene- Agrippina’s disappointment coursing through me.”

“Maybe you  _ wouldn’t _ feel that if you studied what I taught you properly, Giselle.”

“I did! I swear! Some of us just aren’t academic geniuses like you.”

“Academic genius?! I  _ barely _ passed that exam,” Benedita said, dismayed, “It was horrible…”

He and Matt looked at each other in shared, exhausted acknowledgement, that Benedita absolutely nailed that test.

***

The next day was with Maelstrom, general stealth and general thievery. Toby came out of the exam again, confident, thanking Gray for everything he’d taught him. The…  _ complicated _ nature of their current relationship aside, Toby had to pay credit where credit was due. 

Matt, on the other hand, did not.

“Hey, it’s okay, it was just one mistake.”

“It was a mistake that got me caught, Magpie. I can’t believe it! All my work for nothing!”

“You don’t know that! Look, you fucked up the stealth part, sure, but that doesn’t mean the entire exam was a waste! You probably did fine on the other parts!”

Matt sighed, and Toby didn’t push it any further. He knew how she felt, and he would know how she felt. Toby knew there was no way he was passing the hand-to-hand exam. No matter how many sparring matches he went through with Matt, no matter how much he practiced, it was a complete impossibility..

The exam itself, Brunt had told them, consisted of three fights. Two against the Janitors and one against one of their classmates, selected by draw. Toby could see two outcomes: the first, he gets his ass pummeled and then pulls in the world’s most pathetic draw. The second, he gets his ass pummeled and then gets his Ass Pummeled 2: Electric Boogaloo.

Toby puts the thought out of his mind. It’s not Thursday yet. He has other, more pressing matters at hand.

Wednesday was Roundabout’s turn, and the most conventional and uneventful exams of the lot. Basic psychology, but it was the length of it that stumped most of them. Toby’s left hand hadn’t ached like that since he sat his HSC, but it wasn’t something he was unused to. Matt didn’t take the mass of writing too well, but Toby thought that was understandable. She’d never gotten her HSC, in technicality, Toby realised, she’d never actually graduated high school. 

He decides it’s best not to bring that up. It was, he imagined, a bit of a touchy subject. 

***

Toby woke up on Thursday morning with a dread worse than anything he had ever felt since his arrival here. It settled deep inside of him, and for a moment it felt foundational, distilled in his blood, ingrained in his bone. He opened his wardrobe and stared at his incomplete suit, lamenting all the work everyone was putting into it, lamenting the waste it would all be after today. Toby put it on eventually, there was no point delaying the inevitable. It was comfortable and it fit perfectly, but it didn’t make him feel any better. 

He couldn’t bring himself to fasten the mask. Not yet. Instead he picked up the box and took it downstairs with him. Matthias whistled when he saw him, wearing an outfit that was simple and form fitting, much closer to the previous standard worn by the older operatives. It was an almost-black shade of purple and simple looking, designed to allow the most movement possible. It suited him. Toby couldn’t bring himself to comment. 

The next thing he saw was Matt, rising out of her chair to greet him, and he was immediately aware of the fact that she had waited here specifically for him. And that she looked beautiful, but unreal.

He knew that dress down to the last detail, Matt had taken him through every step, but he never imagined it would look like it did. It was white and soft, reaching to just above her ankles, and many layered. It seemed to float when Matt moved, of course it did, that was rather the point. Toby could faintly see the lilies sewn onto the lower layers of the skirt, hand painted silk flowers with cobalt blue veins for an accent that seemed to only exist for her own aesthetic value. Matt’s hair was down, loose waves that curled more definitively at her shoulders. But there was something bizarre in her, a sudden, strange, stunning dissonance. It felt like Toby was looking at a paradox, a mirage and a reality, a falsity and a truth, all at once. Matt looked otherworldly; faded and ghostlike. She looked nothing like herself.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, a hand already on his arm. Toby tried to say something, but the words melted into bile before they could leave his throat. 

“You look nice,” he eventually got out. 

“So do you. Are you going to put the mask on?”   
  


“Not until we get there.”

Matt nodded in understanding, “Well, come on. I’m here to make sure you eat. You can’t collapse before we even start.”

***

Matt was called first. They were all seated in a small room off the side of the gymnasium, and Coach Brunt opened the door, called, “Giselle. You’re the lucky first.”

Toby wanted to beg her to stay, but he held himself back, simply smiling at her instead. Matt stood up, straightened her dress, and checked the ribbons on her shoes. Toby hoped that she wouldn’t have too much trouble adjusting to their weight, but he was confident that Matt would be fine. It did nothing but make him feel worse. 

Everyone wished Matt luck as she left, the door sliding shut behind her. She didn’t return.

Michiko was called 20 minutes later, and Matthias after her. It was when Benedita was called, just after Rosalind, that Toby realised there was method to Brunt’s madness. She was calling them from best to worst, so it came with such a disheartening lack of surprise when Chae-Min left him alone in the room with a final, bright smile, and a murmur of comfort. Toby pulled the mask out of the box and stared at it again. 

He knew that he should take it as a blessing. He knew what Brunt was doing, the better fighters would be worn out enough to give the weaker ones some semblance of a chance. Surprisingly enough, it didn’t make him feel any better. 

Time seemed to drag on forever with no one to talk to. It reminded him of the early years of high school, in which it became abundantly clear that no amount of high society niceties had prepared him for what would eventually become his worst nightmare: preteens. Toby leaned his head back against the wall and tried to quell the coiling of his stomach, but he knew already it was a futile effort. 

Nothing good was going to come of this. Why would they admit a VILE agent who couldn’t even take on one of their own? What would they even do with him once he had failed? Wouldn’t they just get rid of him? Banish him back to Australia? At least he could see his family again. See Gray again. Assuming that Gray was even alive. 

But that would leave too many loose ends for a top secret agency. No, they’d probably just kill him.

And for as much as Toby had thought about, had planned his death, he had finally been at a point in his life when there was no part of him that actually wanted it to happen.

But all he could do was his best. That was what his father had always told him. All Toby could do was go out there and pretend that he knew what he was doing, and maybe if he pretended hard enough, he would make it come true. Play the part of the competent and hold it together. In the end, all he could do was try. Try and pretend.

Finally,  _ finally, _ he put the mask on. There was a small  _ click _ as he tied the ribbon, Lorikeet’s fastening mechanism falling into place to keep it secure. He’d have to thank her properly, even if he preferred only to speak to her when it was absolutely necessary. It fit perfectly, there was no chance of it inhibiting his vision, no chance of it being moved or shifting in battle. Now all he needed was the jacket, and the illusion would be complete.

The door slid open. Brunt didn’t say anything, she didn’t need to. Toby stood up, breathed in deep, and followed her outside. 

The gymnasium was empty except for him, Brunt, and two young looking Janitors. There was a single mat in front of an empty chair.

“Alright, Magpie, you know the drill. Three fights, two with the Janitors, one with your classmates. You lose more than you win, you fail. I’ll be assessing closely. Get ready.”

The first of the Janitors approached the mat. She had tired eyes and tanned skin, her hair in a messy bun. Toby nodded at her as she took her stance. She did not grace him with a response. 

Toby’s breathing was coming out in sharp, short exhales. He had to calm himself down, he had to. Think about anything else, think about Matt, think about Kolya and Michiko and the rest of them, think about how much they’d want him to succeed, to win. Think about his family, think about Gray. Toby took his stance, let his breath out slowly and the weight lifted off his shoulders. He smiled.

The whistle pierced shrill and sharp through his ears, but it didn’t bother Toby at all. He knew what he was doing, he was in control. He raised his fists and struck.

His blow was batted away. The same instant a knee was slammed into his gut. He staggered back. Winded. Desperate. He tried to regain his footing. Too late, another mass slammed into him, and this time he was out.

Toby was only aware of the pain as his head hit the mat. Then he was aware of the knees on his arms. Then the fist poised to strike his throat. Then the struggle as he tried to move his legs for leverage. Then Brunt’s whistle, again.

It had barely been two minutes. Forget everything he believed before, Toby had never wanted more than to crawl into a hole and die. 

The Janitor got off of him, smiling tiredly, leaving without offering Toby any sort of hand. He didn’t have time to admonish her for her bad etiquette, because Brunt was standing over him in an instant.

“You alright, there?” She asked, dryly. Toby sighed, and nodded. “Reckon that’s gotta be a new record. Shortest fight ever.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Toby mumbled, before he could stop himself. Brunt’s eyes went wide.

“What did you just say to me?” She demanded, voice low and dangerous, accent more enunciated. But Toby didn’t care anymore. It was his ass on the line, not hers, she could suck it up for a while. 

“Apologies, Coach, I’m just a little, ah, worked up,” he said, rising to his feet, “I’m a bit preoccupied with the matter at hand, I’m sure you can understand it.”

“I’ll forgive it, this time,” Brunt said, after a pause, “Don’t expect it to happen again. You’re up!” She called out to the second Janitor, who approached Toby with no small degree of self-assuredness. He was stocky, well-built, and this time Toby made no attempt to acknowledge him. There was no time for niceties, not anymore, if he lost this fight he was completely and irrevocably fucked. And fuck it all if he was going to go down quietly.

The Janitor had short, cropped hair and a square jawline, and there was a malicious glint in his eye. Toby didn’t know what it was about it, but it sparked a memory. Toby’s first ever party, at least, his first ever  _ actual  _ party, when he was sixteen years old. Gray had gotten into a fight. Gray had gotten into a fight over Toby, and Gray had punched a boy with glaring similarities to this little fucker in front of him. 

Toby couldn’t lose. He couldn’t. He knew what he had to do. 

The whistle sounded. He charged.

It was probably an ill-thought decision. Toby, frankly, did not care. He threw blow after blow to match block after block. The stance was breaking. His opponent was shifting back. Toby, unthinkingly, got too comfortable. 

A shove. A blow. Toby barely blocked it, he staggered back. Unbalanced, fear coursed through blinding hot and freezing cold. Not this again. Please, God, not this again! Toby couldn’t bear it.

And Toby wouldn’t bear it. An idea struck him. He did what Gray would do.

Something ridiculously fucking stupid.

“And I thought Janitors were supposed to be fucking competent, what was that?” he demanded. The Janitor glared. 

“Big talk for someone who can barely last two minutes,” he snapped back. 

“Oh, yes, yes, of course. You’re right You are absolutely right. After all, I suppose  _ you  _ would know a  _ lot _ about lasting a long time. I don’t even want to imagine the amount of people you had to fuck to get this job, but maybe I’ll ask for some pointers just in case  _ this _ falls through. I guess the Faculty’ll let anyone in if they can screw well-”

The Janitor charged with an angry yell and Toby dodged seamlessly. Another punch thrown. Another hit blocked. Toby saw his opportunity and didn’t think. He took it. He turned his opponent’s weight against him and they toppled. Again, Toby hit the mat. But this time, this time, he had the upper hand.

At least, he did, until the Janitor flipped him onto his back. Only, Toby didn’t think what to do next. He launched his head up. Sunk his teeth into the Janitor’s flesh. And he didn’t let go until he heard a yell of pain. Until the body above him went slack. He flipped them over again. Punched his opponent once in the head and left it at that. 

Toby only got up when the whistle sounded. He felt his adrenaline begin to leave him, and a tinge of regret set in, as the Janitor staggered away. There was still blood in his mouth. But he didn’t have time to worry about that. There was still one more fight. And everything relied on which name came out of the hat. 

“I’ll admit, Magpie, you’re certainly full of surprises,” Brunt said, smiling at him in a bemused sort of way, “I haven’t seen a fight like that in you all year. Though, I don’t appreciate your comments on the sex lives of my colleagues. Regardless, it did what you needed it to do, I guess,” she reached for a small cup on the floor beside her chair, and pulled a slip of paper out of it. Toby felt his heartbeat pick up all over again, “If you’ll excuse me.”

She left Toby trying desperately again to regain his composure. Everything he had done, everything he planned to do, it had all come down to a name drawn out of a hat. Down to fate, and Toby had never trusted his fate had anything good in store for him, had spent every moment he could fighting against it, believing completely that he was only increasing its inevitability. And now the entire trajectory of his life depended entirely on whoever it was that followed Brunt through that-

Oh.

Oh,  _ no. _

It was Matt. 

Who looked as unhappy to see him as he was her. She walked up to the mat and stood there, looking down at her feet. At her steel capped pointe shoes that could break Toby’s ribs. He was dead. He was absolutely dead, there was  _ no _ way he was surviving this, no way he was passing this. Every inevitability he had hoped to avoid came crashing back in. And that wasn’t even the worst part of it, no, the worst part of it is that it was Matt. Matt, who would forever believe it was her fault, who was too stubborn to take a loss, too stubborn to give up. Too stubborn to give up on him. Too insistent that they make it through together.

Make it through… 

Together.

“No,” He said, before he could stop himself. Matt looked up at him. There was an apology in her eyes. He tried to communicate again, begged her not to do what she was about to do. It was pointless, he knew that, he knew Matt too well to believe she could be convinced. But still, he tried.

It was the whistle that cut him off, and Matt immediately attacked. 

Toby saw every opening she had left for him. Toby knew she was trying to appear too tired to think not to leave them. Toby took none of them. Toby dodged. 

Matt tried again, and this time, she struck. He felt the weakness of the blow. He tried to push her back, tried to hold her off, tried to stop her from making this stupid mistake. This could not be by his hand, he could not let her throw this all away. Not for him, he wasn’t worth that. 

But he forgot how opportunistic Matt could be. She fell and at the last second, grabbed Toby in a supposed attempt to regain balance. They both hit the floor. Toby on top of her. Matt made a very rudimentary show of struggling, but they both knew nothing was going to come of it. The whistle sounded.

Toby had won the fight. And, judging by the look on Brunt’s face, it was  _ very _ obvious why.

“Giselle,” She said, voice full of barely constrained emotion, “With me. Now.”

Toby couldn’t bear to even look at Matt’s face. He left the gymnasium without another word, tearing off his mask and shoving it into his pocket. 

***

There was the tiniest gap between two buildings that seemed to be made for moments like this. One of the walls had a large window in which it could be seen, but if Toby kept far back, leaning against the back wall, he couldn’t be seen. 

He pulled his knees to his chest and stared down at his dress shoes. Well, at least the other operatives wouldn’t have to deal with that stupid jacket anymore. They were probably so happy to be done with it, how long would it be until word of what happened reached them? Rumours spread quickly, here. They’re probably laughing at him already. After all, he deserved it, maybe if he’d just kept it together and done better, he wouldn’t have been as humiliated as he had been. As he is.

He’d been out here for nearly an hour, and nobody had disturbed him. How long would it be until they came for him? Were they preparing to take him away in the dead of night? Or would they give him false hope until the results were released, until he was publicly condemned and then swiftly removed to give way for another, more capable agent? But Toby was sure he was the only one who ever came here, if they wanted him, they could come get him themselves.

And, as if speaking of the devil, Toby heard footsteps. And they were getting louder.

There was nowhere to run, that Toby was very aware of. Not only was he cornered in what essentially was a dark alleyway, he was on an island in God knows where with no way off other than in a coffin. That was, assuming, they even gave him a funeral, what did VILE even do with their dead, anyway? Apparently, Toby was about to find out.

“Magpie. There you are.”

It was, to Toby’s surprise, Matthias and Rosalind. Were they coming on someone’s orders? Coming to drag him away? He didn’t know, but he didn’t stop them from approaching.

“Giselle’s been looking for you for hours. She’s really upset,” Matthias told him, sitting down across from him. Rosalind did the same, “You know, she’s already going through enough at the moment. She doesn’t need you being mad at her right now.”

“I feel like there’s a time and a place for saying things like that,” Rosalind turned to Matthias, deadpan, “And this is not quite it.”

“What? I’m right.”

“Yes, but there’s being right and there’s being a cockhead about it.”

Toby snorted. The pair looked at him.

“He’s right,” Toby said, “But I’m not mad at Giselle. Really. I’m guessing she told you about what happened.”

Rosalind and Matthias looked at each other, and it told Toby everything he needed to know. He groaned, and put his head on his knees.

“Oh, Toby,” Rosalind said, sympathetically, “It’ll be alright.”

“But if you’re not actually angry at Giselle you need to tell her,” Matthias told him, serious, “She’s really freaking out.”

“I don’t blame her, I’m just… fuck, I just don’t think she gets how humiliating it is to only pass because she made sure I did.”

“How did she make sure you passed?” Rosalind demanded, “She didn’t even know how you’d gone in the previous rounds. I didn’t even know that.”

“I lost the first fight. In under two minutes.”

Matthias snorted and Rosalind punched him in the arm for it.

“Ow!”

“In a month this will all be hilarious, but you deserved that,” Toby told him.

“Sorry, sorry, you’re right, that was rude. But did you really think you were going to make it through your entire life without - what was the phrase Giselle used? Oh, yeah! ‘Making a complete tit of yourself’? Come on,” Matthias said, “I could’ve qualified for the Olympics, you think I got there humiliation free? God, no, Magpie, I could tell you stories.”

“Yeah, but your stories never involve someone else taking the fall for you. Brunt  _ knew _ what Matt had done, there was no way she could have logically lost that fight and it was  _ obvious.  _ Now Matt’s in shit and Brunt will just call a rematch and then I’ll be fucked!”

“That’s true…” Rosalind said, “assuming, after all, that Matt  _ wasn’t _ supposed to throw the fight.”

“What? Of course she wasn’t supposed to- what sort of question?”

“I mean, yes, but it’s a strange thing to suggest, for an exam, isn’t it?” Rosalind said, and she had the look in her eye she got when she was about to explain her superior logic. Toby prepared himself for a longwinded, vaguely villainous monologue, 

“We have to fight each other by draw?” Rosalind asked, “What happens if someone gets drawn twice? Three times? How is that fair, they’re tired, they’re worn, they’ve either just done an exam or they still have to do one. There’s a lot of chance for unfairness, and there’s nothing Brunt prides herself in more than a fair fight. So that makes it interesting, than, that out of all of us, Giselle, who went first, was the only one who had to fight a classmate twice.”

“Twice?”

“She was drawn for me too. Which is ironic, considering that the two people she was drawn for were the ones she had the most… well…  _ eventful _ relationship with. And think about it,” Rosalind had Matthias in Toby in rapt attention, “Giselle’s proud. She’s stubborn and she’s proud. She would not willingly back down and lose a fight. So guess what happens? She’s pitted against you, her best friend and partner in crime, and she immediately knows that she’s in an impossible situation. 

“She either wins the fight and directly causes your failure, or she loses a fight against the - no offence - worst fighter in the class, an eternal wound to her pride. So what does she do?”

“She loses, that’s obvious,” Toby answered for her, “Her pride doesn’t matter when it’s someone she cares about. When it’s me. I knew what she was going to do before we even started.”

“You did, but VILE didn’t,” Rosalind said calmly, and gave Toby a moment to figure it out. He thought about what Rosalind had said earlier. What was Matt supposed to do? What she was supposed to do in that situation? She wasn’t supposed to lose the fight, she wasn’t. That didn’t make sense, not in the context of the tests. Unless...

“Wait,” he burst out, suddenly, “Are you saying that…”

Rosalind nodded. “And what would  _ you _ do? It would be obvious that Giselle intentionally lost, at least to Brunt. She would be punished for that, but you would at least have a chance of passing. Do you throw her under the bus? Or fail the exam?”

“Wait. Just a minute,” Matthias cut in, “What exactly is that testing? Where are you going with this?”

“You had to fight Romashka, someone who can't take a hit if it kissed him lightly on the cheek, and who you knew would have his exam after yours, of which an injury would greatly risk. I had to fight Giselle, someone who I’ve had a, well,  _ rocky _ relationship with, and who would not, according to VILE, hesitate to wreck me if the roles were reversed. These fights could be the difference between a pass and a fail, we all knew that, and in every single one of them we had to make a significant choice between each other and ourselves. 

“I had to choose whether I wanted to knock Giselle down a peg or two. You,” Rosalind pointed at Matthias. “Had to choose between risking Romashka’s pass or your own. And Magpie,” she pointed at Toby, “was on the other side of that exact same situation. Essentially-”

“Please just give us the basic summary.”

“It didn’t matter whether we won the last fight or not. It was a test of our loyalty, not our prowess.”

Matthias paused, “Shit,” was all he said, “That… actually explains a lot.”

“So, wait,” Toby turned to her, “if I lost one fight and won another, would I pass based on how I acted in the third? If Matt was  _ supposed _ to throw the fight, what was I supposed to do?”   
  


But he already knew the answer to that question, and it filled him with cruel, desperate dread.

“My guess would be,” Rosalind said, thinking it through, “that you were supposed to prevent Giselle from throwing the fight, protecting her ‘honour,’ so to speak, even at risk of your own exam,” 

“But… but I didn’t! I didn’t want her to lose the fight, but in the end I couldn’t stop her, she still lost. What does that mean, do I fail? Have I lost?”

Rosalind shook her head, “I don’t know. I don’t know how the exact marking of it works, all I can comment on is what their logic was.”

Toby leant back against the wall again, the last glimmer of hope, the tiniest burning match inside of him, snuffed out against a grimy and dying hand. 

“We should go find Giselle,” he said, eventually, “I need to apologise for spooking her like that.”

The three of them stood up, and Matthias, surprisingly, put his arm around Toby’s shoulder. 

“Don’t worry. We’ll be here no matter what happens,” he told him.

“I could be wrong,” Rosalind insisted, “I don’t know what the Faculty will do. Don’t give up yet.”

Toby just nodded, he knew trying to say anything was a futile effort. There was no point in it, he knew there was no escape from the obsessive reminders his mind provided him, the obsessive drilling in that it was all over, he had completely lost his only chance to succeed, and he was a fool for even thinking he’d had one in the first place. But still, he walked alongside Matthias and Rosalind, and they headed back into the main building.

They turned into the landing to the dormitories, deciding to check there first, when they ran into the exact person they were hoping to find. Matt walked around the corner just as they did, and started, stepping back with a small gasp. 

“Toby- Magpie - I -”

Toby hugged her, and no matter how ghostlike she looked she was still small and alive and warm, not as warm as Gray was, but Gray was a statistical outlier and should never had been counted. 

“Sorry I ran. It wasn’t your fault.”

Matt nodded into his shoulder, and they eventually pulled apart. 

“Did Brunt lose her shit at you?” He asked. Matt shook her head. 

“No, not really. She just told me not to do it again.”

Toby looked at Rosalind, who gave him a knowing look in return. He tried to shrug away the sinking feeling in his stomach. But she was right, he didn’t know what was going to happen, none of them did. There was quite simply the fact that the Faculty was unpredictable, that even somebody with Rosalind’s talents couldn’t always figure out what was happening next. Or maybe that was just because she didn’t have the full picture? Even she was able to pick up that there were things happening behind the scenes, things that were intentionally being kept from her, from all of them.

He didn’t know what was coming next. Toby hadn’t known what was coming next for years, no matter how much he believed he did, it was never true. He had always been played by the forces of the universe, always tugged along and thrown around like a particularly despised puppet. If Toby had learned anything in his life, it was that Fate was a nonsensical piece of shit.

But come what may, Toby thought to himself, as he tried to gently coax himself into sleep. He’d figure it out, he always did.

And he couldn’t think about it right now, anyway. He’ll cross this bridge when he comes to it.

***

La Marquise d’Or, known simply as Marquise for obvious reasons, peered around Toby’s door a week later with a final, satisfied smile. He knew what she was here for before it even hit him in the face. 

“Mmph!” His voice was muffled by the mass of heavy black fabric that had just been launched at him. Marquise laughed as Toby tried to extricate himself from the jacket.

“Do you know how long we’ve waited to do that?” She said, “I adore the design but that was an genuine amalgamation of absolute  _ shit.” _

“I offered to do it myself-”

“We have had this conversation, Magpie.  _ We _ make the outfits, here. When you become an operative you can make them for the initiates. Now, try it on. We did not spend weeks on that embroidery not to see it in action,” Toby lifted the jacket up to see it in its full glory, “The  _ full _ outfit. Come on, let me see it.”

Toby got a proper look at the jacket for the first time. For the most part, it was fairly normal, made of the same fabric the rest of the outfit was, just a regular black suit jacket. It was the embroidery that defined it, small white diamonds that alternated up the front of it, stretching in a larger diamond-esque shape that ended at his collarbone, and tapered off, connecting at the sides to a similar pattern on his back. He went to his wardrobe to get the shirt and the pants as Marquise left to wait outside, closing the door behind her. 

He had just finished buttoning his shirt when the door burst inwards. He jumped, heart racing. It was Matthias.

“Results,” was all he said.

And Toby grabbed his jacket and tore off after him. He heard Marquise call out. He didn’t care. He didn’t care that he wasn’t wearing shoes, either. In his pink socks he took the stairs two at a time. The living room was empty. Everyone else had already left. 

They open the door and crash straight into Matt. She staggered back, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her along. He didn’t have time for her to right herself. 

The results were posted in the entrance hall of the main building. Already the others were there. Toby tried to ignore them, but it was impossible to drown out Kolya’s cheers. For all his haste to get here, now that he was in front of the board he felt all his courage swiftly depart, separate and drift away, like dandelion seeds. He looked down.

Matthias was the first to approach, with the controlled, graceful steps he only reverted to when he was truly nervous. Matt grabbed his arm. 

“Come on,” she murmured, “just get it over with.”

“You first, then.” 

“Fine,” she huffed back.

Matt left him there, all alone amidst a celebration that he wanted so desperately to be his. He didn’t look up, he didn’t acknowledge that there was anyone else in that room of importance other than himself. The metres between him and the board stretched out until the entirety of his lifeline could be uncoiled in the empty space. If he kept this up long enough, maybe everything around him would turn to dust and bone, and he would never have to face the truth. He could erase it all away, what a thought that was. Truly.

“Toby?” Matt said, voice tentative and soft and gentle and so many millions of other things that fill him with the eternal gratitude that must have made her in the first place. And there was only one way he could truly thank her. He looked up. He took a step forward, and looked up.

Toby processed it too quickly. There was no way he had given it enough dramatic weight to capture how it was supposed to feel when he saw the tick next to the picture of his face. There was the warmth, deep in his chest, the perfect bassline reaching its perfect moment. The sunlight finally reaching the water. Something had opened up and Toby wondered if he had ever carried any weight at all, because he couldn’t remember it anymore. 

A breathless, elated laugh burst out of him, and all bets were off. Matt went to hug him and he picked her up, spun her around without thinking and she laughed just after she shrieked. He set her down and he wasn’t quite aware what happened after that, most of it was a giddy, hazy, blur.

“Congratulations,” Countess Cleo’s voice slowly lowered him from his reverie. They all looked up to see the Faculty watching them from the landing of the second floor, “We are all amazed by your progress.”

“Hey, is that your jacket?” Matthias asked, picking it up where it had fallen to the wayside, “Fucking finally.”

Toby had completely forgotten about the jacket, he nodded, a little dazed. Everyone was suddenly looking at him and he didn’t mind at all. 

“Well, put it on, idiot!” Matt shoved him good-naturedly, he didn’t quite feel like he was entirely there. Shouldn’t something like this need some sort of ceremony? Shouldn’t this be done at a time when Toby didn’t feel like summer breezes were enough to carry him away? But there wasn’t enough time to get this right, and maybe he didn’t need to get this right. Maybe this  _ was _ getting it right. 

Matt held the jacket up for him to put it on. Toby slipped his arms into the sleeves. Rosalind was the first to cheer. It fit perfectly. 

And finally, Toby felt like all the pieces were in place. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok am off the bus now that's cool!
> 
> I did a sketch just to give a vague idea of what Magpie and Giselle's outfits look like it's not very good or detailed but you can look at it here!
> 
> https://luciformia.tumblr.com/


	41. Gray, Roped In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Red's going to Korea. Amelia makes a plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, a year ago: I can only update this at the dead of night in an empty house, if anyone Sees This I will Commit Scooter Ankle
> 
> Me, Now: *publishes this at school, surrounded by friends, in a crowded area during break.

“Seoul. Seoul, Gray,  _ Seoul! _ In  _ Korea! _ ” Amelia bounced with excitement, sitting on her bed. Gray was sitting on her desk chair, facing her. It was a cold December morning, nothing he was unused to, but enough to be noticeable.

“Yes, Amelia. Seoul. Indeed. That is where we are going. To Seoul. In Korea. I heard you the first 20 times you said it. Now, hold still for a minute.”

Amelia slapped him lightly on the arm, causing his hand to shake at a time where his hand  _ really  _ could not shake. He glared at her. 

“What did I just say? Hold  _ still.  _ Anyway, what’s your thing with Seoul all of a sudden? I thought your whole thing was with Harajuku?”

“I can have multiple  _ things, _ Gray,” Amelia said, “Anyway, Seoul’s just  _ cool. _ It’s one of those places I’ve wanted to go to since I was small. And the National Museum’s got so much cool shit in it, I can’t wait to check it all out. I don’t know, it’s what I’ve always wanted, I guess.”

“All you’ve always wanted? Let me guess, you watched k-dramas growing up and now your development is stunted. That’s why you wanna go.”

Amelia flicked him in the middle of his forehead.

“Ow!”

“You deserve that,” Amelia told him. Gray pulled the eyeliner brush away from her.

“Amelia, if you keep moving I am going to fuck this up. I’m not exactly ‘eyeliner expert,’ here.”

“I don’t need eyeliner expert, I need your electrician hands. They’re steady as fuck.”

“Yeah, well there’s rewiring a major electrical circuit, potentially risking death, and there’s putting on liquid eyeliner. Anyway,” Gray brandished the scars on his fingers, “Do these look like hands that have been particularly steady to you?”

“I’ve seen you work, Gray. Trust me, that shit’s  _ precise. _ ”

“I mean, I guess. Anyway, I thought you knew how to do your own makeup? Why are you coming to me in the first place?”

Amelia glanced away, but kept her face still, “I did, but I never really got to try with the makeup I wanted. I thought I had to keep myself looking professional. For ACME and all that.”

Gray nodded, and, with a hand on Amelia’s shoulder for balance, tried again. Amelia, gratefully, got the memo.

“Why don’t you ask Carmen? Not that I don’t want to help, but my makeup experience is kinda limited.”

“As much as I like Carmen,” Amelia said, keeping her head as still as possible, “She still intimidates me a little. Particularly with something like this.”

“I know.”

“Aren’t you two, like, friends now, though? She calls you Gray and everything.”

“Is that your only establishing factor as to whether I’m friends with someone?”

“Yes. Ivy’s jealous cause she’s the only one who hasn’t got Gray Privileges yet.”

“You guys have a term for it?”

“Uh huh. Anyway, Carmen’s really great and I’m glad you two sorted your shit out, but it’s a little difficult at times to forget that I’m only here because you pulled some strings.”

Gray pulled back to stare at her, “Who told you that?” He’d made an effort to keep that from her, he didn’t want her getting any ideas about her own self-worth. Did someone try and rub that in her face? He didn’t think anyone in the house would, but he needed names, just in case. Was it Player? He  _ was _ a teenager. They could be very angsty assholes, Gray knew that first-hand, he was one. 

“Nobody. It was obvious from the get go,” Amelia said, nonchalantly. Gray was relieved. He really didn’t want to have to beat up what he assumed was a middle schooler. It probably wasn’t a good look, “Carmen wouldn’t invite an ACME agent to join without prompting. Regardless, Carmen’s makeup’s so good I feel bad for even asking. Eyeliner that could cut glass, y’know?”

Gray nodded, “And the contouring? Blending you’d kill for.”

“Oh my god, right! Wait,” Amelia looked at him, confused, “Since when could you judge good contouring?”

“Well, I’ve had to do it a couple of times,” Gray shrugged, “Also, you don’t spend nearly an entire year with Matt and Toby,  _ together,  _ and not learn a thing or two. Now, keep still, I need to do your other eye.”

“I need to be able to be good at this for the mission, no way am I showing up in Seoul with bad makeup. They’d kill me.”

Gray raised an eyebrow, “How do you even know we’re going? Carmen never said we were on the mission.”

Amelia’s face fell slightly, but she quickly regained her bright composure, “But we have to be. I’ve been hyped for this for the past fortnight, she can’t just let me  _ not go!” _

“Carmen can, and Carmen will. She’ll only take us if it’s absolutely necessary, you know the rules.”

Amelia’s face still held it’s hope, but dejection was starting to bleed in, “But… it’s all Zack and Ivy have been talking about. I thought… Carmen never said I  _ couldn’t _ …”

“She never said you could, either. You should have asked her.”

Amelia looked at him like he was suggesting she swim in shark infested waters. Or whatever the equivalent for her was, Amelia loved sharks, she had the plushies to prove it.

Gray raised an eyebrow at her, “Would you like me to do it?”

“Yes, please…”

“Carmen’s not going to kill you, you don’t need to be so afraid…”

“Yeah, but one thing ACME taught me is that you don’t rock the boat. Ever. Remember,” Amelia said, “I owed them. I was very swiftly reminded of that anytime I tried to disagree.”

“And yet you betrayed the entire organisation for me.”

“What can I say?” Amelia shrugged, smiling at him, “I took a risk on you. It paid off.”

Gray couldn’t help but smile back. 

*** 

He wasn’t smiling when, after a day where Zack, Amelia, and Ivy were up to what Gray would probably describe in most accurate terms as nefarious hijinks, Gray was given possibly the worst task of knocking on her door half an hour after dinner.

“What’s up?” Amelia smiled at him, in the tired way that followed a day of doing so consistently. It made Gray cringe. He felt the strongest deja vu, it swept him away and dragged him down deep. Did he always have to be the bearer of bad news? How many times had he done it before? Or maybe it was only once, but maybe it was enough to change him like this.

Oh, who was he kidding? He was the one who had to tell his parents that there was something wrong with Juliet. That had to have done something, right? And yet, and yet... 

It feels like there’s still something else there.

Amelia was still smiling. Gray figured it was best to just get it over with. 

“We’re not going to Seoul.”

Amelia’s face fell, “What?”   
  


“I’m sorry,” He really wished he didn’t have to keep doing this. These apologies, they feel like the preludes to every destruction his life has wrought on him. It always starts with an apology. 

“But,” Amelia stood there, disbelieving, “How the fuck is that fair!? How!?”

Gray stepped into the room, closing the door behind him before someone overheard.

“I know, I know. Carmen said that the mission was too dangerous for people who weren’t experienced with this.”

“Oh, so what, we’re not fucking good enough, now?” Amelia snapped, her voice like ice. It wasn’t quite like anything he’d heard from her before. Like someone dragging a nail down glass. Like someone shattering crystal. 

“Keep your voice down, if she hears you…”

“Let her!” It made Gray jump, and he instinctively shifted back. Recovering before he made a fool out of himself, he held his ground. 

“No, you don’t want that, however angry you are.”

“I just - it’s not fair! Why does everyone else get to go except me?”

“Hey, I don’t get to go either.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you’d been excited for something like this for your  _ entire life, _ Gray.”

Now,  _ that _ was going a little far. 

“Look,” Gray put his hands on her shoulders, “Just because you can’t go now doesn’t mean you won’t get to ever. We can go at another-”

Amelia shrugged his hands off. “Don’t even try it, Gray. Look, I need some time. I’ll talk to you later.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know! It’s- just leave me alone, Gray. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He walked out of her room, and turned around at her doorway, “Goodnight.”

She didn’t look at him. He closed the door, but just in case, left it ajar. 

He heard it close fully when he was barely 5 steps away.

***

  
  


He didn’t see Amelia the next day. Carmen seemed to know, she didn’t ask as to where Amelia was when she didn’t come with him to train together. They worked hard, but Gray didn’t mind now. Carmen laughed easy when she trusted him. It came easy to make her laugh, when he trusted her. Their dynamic was practiced, but now it was so natural to him it was easy to forget that it had only been a couple of months since it had changed. It felt like it had been this way for years. 

But he didn’t Amelia to, that afternoon, practically kick down his bedroom door.

“Jesus, Meels, learn to knock.”

“Don’t call me that. Anyway,” Amelia shut the door behind her, “I have news.” 

Gray raised an eyebrow. Already, he didn’t like where this was going. 

“We’re going to Seoul!” Amelia announced, beaming a little maniacally..

“We’re… what?”

“Seoul. We’re going,” 

“Carmen told you that?” He asked. 

“No. Carmen doesn’t know about it.”

Oh no. Oh no, this was  _ not  _ happening. This was karmic justice and it had never been crueler. Why did this have to happen  _ now? _ Everything was going so well. 

Why was Gray even surprised? It always happened like this. Even so, he had to put a stop to it. 

“No. Absolutely not. Whatever you’re planning-”

“You know what I’m planning. Anyway, you did it and it came out fine!”

Ah. The consequences of Gray’s actions. He had to nip this at the bud, before Amelia took it too far (but if Amelia was anything like him, that was a lost cause).    
  


_ “That _ was a stupid decision I made,  _ unthinkingly,  _ that nearly got Zack killed.  _ This  _ is mediated and insane!”

“I thought you wanted me to live a little? This is living, Gray.”

The fuck it was  _ not,  _ Gray wanted to tell her, but instead he was sunk down into a sudden,  _ unfortunate  _ epiphany.

“Oh my God, I am a  _ horrible _ influence.”

“That’s a surprise to you?” Amelia asked, “Anyway, you owe me one. I need you to help me on this.”

“What? What the hell do I owe you?”

“Who was the one who left her agency to come and help you fake a kidnapping? I’m calling the favour.”

Gray stared at her. She didn’t have as much hold as she did in the circuit breaker room, but seemed to think she did. Or, was at least acting like it. And even though he knew that truth, there was something so convincing in Amelia’s confidence. But he knew this ploy, he couldn’t get swept up in the charisma.

“No. No way. No. I don’t care what I owe you, find someone else to do it.”

“No one else  _ can  _ do it, Gray! I need you.”

“And exactly  _ what  _ is it you would need me to do?”

“I’ll tell you only if you agree to help.”

“Oh, alright then. Nevermind.”

“Come  _ on,  _ Gray, it’s all I’ve wanted for so  _ long, _ ” Amelia pleaded, looking at him insistently. Gray didn’t buy it. 

“And?”

“Don’t you wanna do this, for me?”

“It’s for you that I’m not doing this at all.”

“Is it?” Gray didn’t like the look in Amelia’s eye as she spoke, “Is that really in your best interest? In  _ my _ best interest? Think about it, I’ll be out there, in a foreign country, sneaking onto a  _ dangerous _ VILE operation without anyone to watch out for me? I don’t even speak the language, it won’t be like in Japan.”

The argument Gray was about to make died on his lips. He knew what she was trying to play at, and he couldn’t buy into it. He couldn’t. No matter how much sense she was starting to make.

“Yes,” he said, slowly, “Which is why I’m not enabling this and  _ you’re  _ not going.”

“Oh, I’ll be going whether you want me to or not,” Amelia shrugged, “It’s only a matter of whether you leave me to the pit of vipers.”

“You just said you needed me.”

“Yes, but I figured out this plan, I can figure out another. The only change that your refusal will bring is that I’ll be forced to go at it alone. Who knows what’ll happen?”

“You know what?” Gray snapped, “If you’re so insistent on it, go. Do what you like, I won’t stop you! But you  _ are _ doing this alone. I’m not getting involved with your-” 

“You can’t bear losing another friend.”

Gray stopped dead.

“Oh, you bitch,” It came out more of an exhale than anything, and Amelia looked at him, unperturbed. She smiled, gently. 

“So you’re in?”

Gray knew when he had been played.

***

He found Carmen when she was alone in the living room, and decided now was as good a time as any to ask. Amelia had sent him into battle for her, and it made sense to do so (after all, it was  _ his _ parents they were pretend-visiting), but that didn’t mean the entire thing didn’t make him feel terrible. But he really didn’t have a choice. He ran through every single possibility and sat down across from her.

“Hey, Carmen…”

“What’s up, Gray?”

“I wanted to ask you something,” he took a rehearsed pause, “It’s about Amelia.”

Carmen cocked her head slightly, and he continued.

“It’s just, she was really upset when she found out we weren’t going on the mission to Korea…” Carmen raised an eyebrow, but nodded, “So, I figured, maybe I’d do something nice for her in the meantime, I don’t know, to make her feel better.”

“Which is?”

“I wanna take her to Minneapolis. I,” he paused, biting back his words, making it appear like it was difficult to say, “I’m going to see my parents.”

Carmen looked surprised, “Your parents? Are you sure? Your relationship seemed pretty… strained.”

“I know, but I’ve been thinking lately, maybe it’s time to fix that? I don’t know, I just feel weird leaving things as they are. Maybe I’m ready to patch things up again,” He’d tailored this exactly to Carmen’s ears, even if it made him feel terrible. But if Amelia had taken after him as much as she had appeared to, she was going to wind up dead if he didn’t keep an eye on her. Gray didn’t have a choice.

He’d never wanted to bring his parents into this, but Amelia had insisted. He’d never wanted to bring his parents into anything. And the lie, at least,  _ this _ lie, hurt. It had never hurt before. 

Carmen smiled, and patted him on the shoulder, “Well, I’m happy for you. Of course you guys can go, when are you planning on leaving?”

“A couple of days before you guys do. We’re gonna drive up there, make a road-trip. We’ll be gone about a week.”

“Perfect.”

“Thanks, Carmen.”

Gray left, and even though nearly every lie he had ever told was just like this one; out of necessity, none had ever made his stomach churn like this one had. Nothing had ever felt like such a betrayal. But Amelia needed him, and this was what he had to do.

So he does it. 

***

Gray and Amelia left before the sun was in the sky, but not too long before the proper dawn. He shivered in the morning air, he had never been particularly cold adapted, he needed warmth, craved it. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself and got into the car as quickly as possible.

Amelia smiled at him as he started it and reversed out. He wished this was just a normal road trip. He wished that he didn’t have to agree to this plan. But he was bound, and there was that part of him, the Machine making another return from when he pushed it away after he decided to trust Carmen over it. There was always a part of him that craved this. Craved rebellion, craved fun, why stop it now? He’d never ignored its calls before.

He smiled back at her, and they drove off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished my final assignment on Monday I'm freeeeeeee (until my HSC) but stiiiiiiiiill


	42. Gray, Snow Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gray and Amelia talk it out. Projectiles are thrown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a little short just wanted to get it out while I could.

Amelia fell onto the bed with the satin pillowcase with the moment they had shut the door behind them. It was a fairly average hotel room, nothing to the rest of the team’s standards, but enough for them. 

“That’s it, I am _ never _driving again. Ever,” she groaned. Gray put her suitcase down and looked at her.

“What, never had to do a road trip before?”

“Gray, I lived in the outer Sydney suburbs. I never needed to drive more than an hour. Let alone _ six. _”

“Oh, calm down, you had breaks. I had to drive 12 hours straight and you don’t see me complaining. Anyway, it was your idea to drive here. How was I supposed to know it was a 28 hour trip?”

Amelia mumbled something grumpy and unintelligible. Gray set his own suitcase down at the foot of his own bed, and sat down.

“So, what now?” He asked.

“Now, I take a well earned nap. I advise you do the same,” Amelia said, eyes already shut.

Gray knew he wasn’t going to do that. He fell back against the pillow and looked away, absentmindedly. It felt weird to just be there while Amelia was sleeping, so he eventually got up and left her there, leaving the hotel all together and starting to look around. It was early dawn, but already the snow was sludgy, and he realised that his shoes probably weren’t at all equipped for this kind of weather. He shoved his hand in his coat pockets, and walked very carefully through it.

Player had given him his parents’ address. He didn’t know what to do with it. He could just go, call a cab, it wasn’t far from here and he had the money to pay for it. Walk up the driveway and knock on the door. It would be easy. But would they even be there? Would they even answer the door? Would they even want to see him? 

Gray genuinely didn’t know. He didn’t even know if he wanted to see them. He loved them, right? He did, he had to. 

He couldn’t resent them. He couldn’t, he had spent years trying not to resent them. They were his parents. He loved them, after all.

Right?

Another time, Gray decided. He would figure this out another time. He would see them another time. When it didn’t feel like the decision was going to tear him apart. 

***

When he finally came back to the hotel room, around midday, cold and a little uncomfortable, Amelia was awake. 

“Where’d you go?” She asked, still a little bleary eyed. Gray shrugged.

“Out.”

“To see your parents?”

“No.”

Amelia sat up, “You should. We can go together, if it’s easier.”

“Maybe another time. Anyway, I only told Carmen that because you told me to. I’m here on a mission, nothing more.”

“Oh, right, about that,” Amelia said, shifting her laptop off her lap, “I’ve booked our flight, I mentioned Carmen's name and they let us through easy. Nice guy.”

“How’d you do that?” Gray asked.

Amelia held up her phone. Gray raised an eyebrow.

“And what if Player looks into it?”

“First off, how would he do that? Second off, why would he do that? He’s a high-schooler, Gray, not Big Brother. He has no reason to suspect us.”

“Why do we have to throw our phones away then?” They weren’t technically throwing them away, they were putting them in a locker until they came back for them, but Gray still didn’t like the idea of parting with it.

“Because there’s taking a risk and there’s being stupid, Gray. Player will only worry if we pop up in the middle of Seoul, and _ then _he’ll look into it. If it looks like we’re in Minneapolis the whole time, we’re fine.”

“True, but I don’t know if I wanna rock up to a foreign country with no means of contact.”

Amelia nodded, “I’d thought you’d say that. Which is why…” she began to rummage around in her bag, searching for something, “I got you this,” She tossed it to him. He caught it. 

“A burner phone!” Amelia said, brightly, “I have one too, don’t worry. Everything’s been arranged, it works fine.”

“Nice!” he said, pocketing it. Amelia smiled.

“Now,” she said, standing up, “Let’s get out of here for a bit. I am really not prepared to spend an entire day in one room.

“There’s not really a lot to see. It just started to snow when I got back.”

Amelia turned to him, “Snow!? Seriously?”

Gray nodded, “Yeah. It’s snowing.”

“No way! Now we have to go out. Come on!” Amelia said, bouncing with excitement. 

Gray had no choice but to follow her. 

***

Gray pulled his mask down to take a sip of his drink. A tiny flake of snow landed on his hand and he brushed it off. There was snow in his hair, melting quickly. Amelia was sitting next to him on the park bench, legs pulled up to her chest, her own drink in hand. 

“What’s the deal with you and your parents?” She asked, suddenly. Gray supposed the question was an inevitability, knowing how much family mattered to Amelia, his relationship with his own was a source of constant confusion for her. He shrugged.

“I don’t know, it’s always been like this. As long as I can remember.”

“That’s not normal, Amelia said, “You know that’s not normal, right?”

Gray sighed, “I know. But it’s just what it is.”

“Why, though?”

“I… are you sure you wanna know? It’s pretty heavy.”  
  


“If I didn’t want to know I wouldn’t have asked. Regardless of how heavy it is.”

Gray paused, before speaking. He couldn’t remember the last time he had to do this. He couldn’t remember if he _ ever _ had to do this. “My parents got kinda… _ weird, _after Juliet died. Ok, weird’s a bad way of explaining it, it was more… you get the gist. Anyway, I was five at the time, and I...”

After all these years of suppressing the urge to say it out loud, of all the years he spent fighting against the want to tell someone, _ anyone, _ the moment that part of him finally had its way it was strangely silent. Suddenly, he didn’t know how to explain it. But Amelia stayed patient, waiting for him to continue.

“I guess I didn’t _ really _register the fact that they were grieving. I don’t actually think I quite understood what grief was. To me, at the time, they were upset all the time and I just made it worse. And in retrospect? That’s really not good for, like, child brain psychology shit.”

Amelia snorted, quietly.

“Yeah, so essentially I think I internalised a lot of shit, but break all _ that _ down and I eventually figured that if I stopped feeling bad and doing bad things all the time, they’d stop getting mad at me. It got to a point where I honestly don’t remember if I ever actually grieved for Juliet at all.”

He’d never told anyone that before. It felt too much like confessing his original sin. Wasn’t it the worst thing he could ever say? Admit that he didn’t care that his sister died? When to this day his parents were still in so much pain? 

Well, he was in too deep now. He might as well finish it. 

“But that kinda just ended in… well… whatever _ this _ is,” he gestured vaguely, “Then again, the other adults at the time weren’t exactly much help. They kept hitting me with the ‘they’re grieving’ shtick in an attempt to get me to behave and well… Or any time I tried to talk about it at all, actually. Yeah, that was a bit of a yikes. The only person who really didn’t do that was my grandma, but she died when I was thirteen. Man, she was cool…”

“But, there must have been a point where they moved on, right?” Amelia asked, concerned.

“You know those people who lose someone and then, even like, years after they should’ve moved on, don’t? They’re in movies and stuff?”

“Yeah?”

“My parents were those people.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, and there’s probably also the fact that I always kinda felt like they resented me for her death… that also was probably not very good.”

Amelia stared at him, “N-no. That’s not. Why would they...?”

“Well, it could’ve just been that Juliet was dead and I was very much not-dead, but I reckon it’s more likely because I was the one who found her and they got weird about it.”

He really needed to stop with the ‘weird’. And the general nonchalance. This wasn’t the type of conversation that permitted nonchalance. It wasn’t even, to him, the type of conversation that was permitted.

“What happened?” Amelia asked.

Gray took a deep breath, “Okay, so, then-four-year-old me was super hyped for his fifth birthday. It was the night before and my curiosity got the better of me. I knew that all the presents were always kept in the what-was-now-Juliet’s room. So I snuck down to check it out, you know? As all children do.”

“I never did that, but continue.”

“Yeah, but you’re moral. Anyway, I was in her room, and I don’t know, I just knew something was wrong. Call it... elder brother sense, I guess. So I looked in the crib.”

“Oh no,” Amelia said, her voice apprehensive.

“I’ve…” Gray didn’t know how to describe. He’d never had to describe it before. The doctors had always asked his parents, told them what was going on. He had just been an afterthought, the fact that her older brother found her just an atmospheric detail, “Never seen anything quite like it before. Honestly - and this is kinda dumb in hindsight, but I was five - I thought she’d been replaced with an alien. I could barely tell in the dark, but her skin looked so… strange. Though, it was only when I realised she wasn’t moving properly that I picked up that anything was wrong at all.”

“Oh, Gray, I’m sorry…”

“Please, don’t be. It genuinely doesn’t affect me like it should.”

“I feel like that’s even more concerning…”

“Honestly, yeah, probably. But basically, me and my parents are not exactly close.

Amelia put a hand on his shoulder, “I know that this probably isn’t the right time to say this,” she ventured, slowly, “but are you sure that you don’t want to see them again?”

“I don’t know.”

“Because, the way I see it, in grieving one child, they lost two. That’s fucked up and you should at least tell them that.”

“There’s no way. I can’t tell them that,” He spent his entire life desperately trying to avoid ever even implying it. It was all an act. It always had to be. 

“They need to know,” Amelia said, “You don’t have to fix your relationship, you don’t have to ever see them again, but they need to know.”

“Why, what makes you so sure?”

“Because if it was any of my family members, I’d wanna know. Even if it would suck shit and I’d feel terrible, I’d at least want to know.” 

“But we have very different ideas of how family dynamics work,” Gray said, because curse Amelia, with her good communication skills and ability to have healthy conflict with people.

“Yeah, cause I have a healthy one,” Amelia replied, “I don’t know what’s going on down your end.”

“Me neither, honestly.”

  
  


“Yeah, well, at least think about it. We still have the rest of the day, and I’m down with whatever you decide to do.”

She made it seem so easy. But she always made everything seem so easy. Well not really, but she always seemed to make things make sense. It was at times like this that he genuinely wondered what he would have done without her. What he would do without her.

“I honestly cannot remember anything about being nineteen, but I hope I was something like you.”

Amelia actually looked surprised, “Legit? Sometimes I wish I could be anything else.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I just wish that I didn’t waste my childhood being some lackey. Everyone else grew up and figured things out for themselves and I was sitting there following orders and relying on literally _ anything _ other than myself, and now I’m nineteen and I have no clue how to do anything for myself, like, everyone else my age has some grip on things and I’ve just been left behind. I missed out.”

Gray doesn’t know how to tell her that it doesn’t work like that. He’d like to tell her that he knows how it feels to have reach the end of adolescence and realise he’d done it wrong, but he barely knows what it feels like to reach the end of adolescence. He was thrown into this mess and he’s improvised ever since, and he wants to tell Amelia that it’ll be alright but she’s already heard it before. He can’t provide her an answer to a question he’s never been asked, and he hates that.

“Well, you made an important decision to spare me, back when we’d just met, didn’t you?” he starts, “And you made the decision to come check on me when Matt and Toby were taken. _ And _ you made the decision to go against ACME for me.”

“Yeah, but that was going from one person’s lackey to another. Nothing I’ve done, I’ve actually done for myself. Everyone else got the chance to make mistakes and learn from them and I didn’t and now I’m just… terrified and dependent, I guess.”

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it? It’s not just about going to Korea, you want to prove that you’re capable on your own.”

“Everyone else got a chance to fuck things up. I never did,” Amelia mumbled.

“You are aware that this isn’t the way to do it, right? This is dangerous and there are worse consequences than us getting caught.”

“That’s why I brought you along.”

“To stop that?”  
  


“To keep me safe. Well, keep us safe.”

Gray didn’t know whether to feel comforted or terrified. The last time someone close to him relied on him he lost them both. But if Amelia needed him he had no choice but to be by her side. He was bound like that. He could never let his friends know how much power they had over him, it was way too dangerous.”

“You are aware how much responsibility that is, right? I don’t know if I could meet your standards. I mean, after all… what if I…” as subtly as he could, he reached down to the ground beside him, “betray you?” 

“What? Like how?”  
  


Gray slapped the snow into Amelia’s neck, careful to avoid her hair. She squealed, grabbing the snow and brushing it off..

“You shit! What the fuck was that for?!” She cried.

“To remind you to be careful who you trust,” he laughed. 

He then took a look at Amelia’s face, and ran. 

***

Gray fell back, covered in snow and looking like what he was sure was a _ complete _ numbat. A shiver ran through him. This was… regrettable.

Amelia sat down beside him.

“Well, I don’t know what you expected, Gray. Snow is, in fact, cold.”

“Shut up, Amelia.”

“That was fun, anyway. I’ve never had a snowball fight before. Even if we probably looked like idiots.”

“It’s not too late for you,” Gray said. Amelia looked at him, a little bemused, “You’ll figure it out. Just because you think you’re behind doesn’t mean you can’t catch up.”

“Yeah, I know that. It’s… I know,” she sighed.

“I can barely remember the last time I had a stable grip on a life trajectory.”

“You can barely remember anything, Gray.”

“Shut up. Anyway, you’ve really gotta stop lamenting the fact that you didn’t figure things out when you were supposed to. You still have time to make sense of it all. I still haven’t.”

“I know…”

“And I like the person you’re becoming, even if it is a bit too much for me.”

“A bit too much?”

“Look, when I run off and start chasing VILE agents, it’s cool and fun and I don’t have to think of the consequences. When you do it, it’s scary and terrifying and I feel like you’re going to wind up dead.”

“Is that your way of saying that you care about me?” Amelia asked, a little teasingly.  
  


“No, my way of saying I care about you is by saying it: I care about you.”

Amelia smiled, “Thanks, Gray. I care about you, too.”

Gray was about to respond, but it was at that moment that his teeth began to chatter. Amelia giggled.

“Wuss. Come on, let’s get you home.”

And she helped him up.

***

Amelia was just about to turn the lights out when Gray turned to her. 

“I’m gonna see them when we get back from Korea. My parents, I mean. I’ve just texted them.”

Amelia smiled, wider than anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaah, yes, Minnesota.... snow things... I understand all of these concepts.... I am very knowledgeable on the homeland of the great Big Time Rush.


	43. The Seoul-Searching Caper, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go awry. Gray and Amelia step in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus this was hard to crank out in two days but I did my best! Also, there are a lot of snow related settings in this for someone who has seen genuine snow one (1) time in her life, but ok!

“So, this is it, huh?” Gray asked. The building was tall, square, and very museum-like. Which was good, considering that it was, in fact, a museum. It consisted of a large, square arch, which stretched out from the main building and contained it. Very modern, very nice. A museum, indeed.

“National Museum of Korea. Heist and Counter-Heist ongoing.” Amelia replied. Seoul was warmer than Minneapolis, but not by much, and not enough for Gray’s standards. Both times Amelia had forced him to wear a beanie when they were outside, a concession made solely for her, Gray  _ never  _ wore hats. Ever. It was a rule. Neither did Amelia, something he pointed out with outlandish incredulity, but she shut him down by reminding him that her hair didn’t exactly permit it (and by jamming the beanie down onto his head).

But she was wearing earmuffs. Fuzzy, pink earmuffs with rabbit ears, and a thick scarf. She looked warm. Gray was jealous. Not that he wasn’t wearing two jackets himself, his royal blue hoodie underneath a dark green bomber jacket found in an op-shop that dwarfed him. He’d bought it never thinking he’d get a chance to wear it, the fabric was too thick for Australian weather, but he’d been too enamoured with it to care.

He now blesses his terrible clothing decisions. 

“Are you sure you don’t wanna join in on the heist-y fun?” He asked, “Cause as much as I disagree with this whole thing, I  _ am _ down if you’re down.”

“What, and get flayed alive? No, we are here to vibe and  _ only _ vibe.”

“Noted,” Gray said. An idea suddenly popped into his head, “Hey, you reckon Zack and Ivy are around here somewhere?” 

“Yes,” Amelia replied, a little tense, “Which is why I am keeping an eye out and strictly  _ avoiding _ them,” she resumed looking around, pulling her scarf higher up her face. 

“Okay, I recognise that, but we could fuck with them a little, if you wanted,” he gave her a sidelong glance, because he’s already screwed the pooch a tad on the whole ‘good influence’ thing, he might as well have some fun with it. 

“How?”

“If we just rocked up somewhere where they could see us, when all evidence points to us being in Minneapolis, that would confuse the  _ fuck _ out of them. They’d think we have Korean doppelgangers.”

“Wouldn’t they figure it out, though?”   
  


“As much as I like them, I honestly doubt it.”

“It’d be risky…” Amelia said, unsure, “But it would actually be pretty funny. Particularly if they did figure it out. They’d come back and confront us and we’d pretend like we didn’t know anything.”

“Yeah, have them questioning their own sanity. It’d be fun!”

“Ah, gaslighting our friends for fun and profit,” Amelia said, raising an eyebrow.    
  


Well, shit, when she put it like  _ that. _

“Actually, on second thought, that’s probably not the best idea.”

“Yeah,” Amelia said, “you’re right. But I would like some grip on where they are. Because it would be really awkward to sneak all the way here just to run into them. Also it would be so awkward. Like ‘hey Zack, hey Ivy, we’re here too, now! Hahahaha, please don’t tell Carmen.’ And then they’d  _ immediately _ tell Carmen. So I’d just like to look for them. From a safe distance. And then avoid them, if that’s alright.”

“Well, you’re in charge here, after all. This is your plan, after all. I am, from here on in,” he mock bowed, “Your lackey.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Amelia said, but she was smiling, “Now, come on. We can get on with our night once everything’s out of the way.”

“At your command,” he replied, letting Amelia take the lead.

“Now,” Amelia said, walking and fiddling with her watch. She put her thumb to her lower lip as she did so, and Gray felt the strange urge to copy her movements, “If I was a ground crew, where would I be?”

“Far away enough to go unnoticed, close enough to get to Carmen. Hell, maybe they’ll be with her, depends on the heist.”

“That’d be convenient,” Amelia muttered, still deep in thought, “And judging by where we are, Carmen’s escape route would be by high ground. So they’d need to be near a building, with a way out for Zack.”

“Assuming that Zack’s not with them.”

“I wish we knew anything about the mission,” Amelia said, “I could figure out what Carmen’s tactics would be if I had any information.”

“Well, there are things inside the museum that VILE wants to steal, and Carmen wants to steal them first. That’s the plan.”

“Wow,” Amelia stopped walking to stare at him, deadpan, “Thank you, Gray.”

“Well,” he said, continuing, “Let’s check nearby deserted alleyways. There’s always a surprising number of them around, I’ve come to learn.”

“I don’t think they’d need deserted alleyways, right now.”

Amelia was right. The streets weren’t deserted, but were as close as they could be without a mandated restriction. Everyone who was out were avoiding them like they had the plague, because, in their eyes, they probably did. 

“Regardless, they have to be around here somewhere,” Gray said.

They got to looking, checking around every corner, looking down every gap between buildings. As they got further and further away from the museum, Gray started to wonder if this was a futile effort. It seemed like it would be easier if Amelia just gave up and let them resume their slightly pointless wandering, get her kicks out of this rebellion and get home before it had dire consequences. He didn’t want to ruin this for her by being a killjoy, but this was starting to seem a little bit like a useless endeavor.

Maybe he could gently steer her away from it. Offer some ‘friendly advice,’ so to speak.

“Hey, Amelia, maybe we should-”

Amelia shoved him into the closest gap between buildings she could find.

Regrettably, Gray’s first thought was that  _ that  _ was a little forward of her. 

His second thought, which  _ didn’t _ make him want to jam the side of a scooter straight into his Achilles, was what the fuck is it  _ this _ time?

But Amelia wasn’t looking at him. Instead, she was looking around the wall at the street, very apprehensively.

Gray took a step so that he was standing next to her, “You know, if I had a dollar for every time a woman violently pushed me into a wall, I’d have like, ten dollars. Which sounds like a lot, in context, but knowing everything I do abou-”

“Shh!”

  
“Why? What is it?” He asked, in a whisper.

“I just saw Carmen down the street.”

So it was official. Hide in an alleyway all they might, they were well and truly fucked.

“What!?”

“Look!” Amelia beckoned him to look out, and he stuck his head out over hers. 

And lo and behold, walking down the street was a redcoated and redhatted figure. She seemed calm, yet attentive, and not at all like someone in the middle of a heist, strangely.

  
  


But luckily for them, she didn’t seem to see them, because Carmen wasn’t the type for delayed confrontation. She would’ve personally dragged them out, placed them in a safe location, and left them there to return for a good old-fashioned lecture. And then would begin their solitary confinement from now until forever.

And also luckily for them,  _ apparently,  _ the more Gray looked at her, the more something seemed to stick out to him.

Something was off.

“Hey, Amelia. Where is Carmen’s  _ hair? _ ”

Amelia turned around to stare at him, “What?”

“Her hair. You know, her long, thick, blows out in the wind when she runs…”

“Shiny, pretty,” Amelia added.

“Can kinda picture it way better short, but this is nice too, hair. Where is it? Did she lose it?”

“I don’t think that’s how hair works…” Amelia said, eyeing him.

“Me neither. So unless Carmen decided it was time for a breakdown haircut in Korea,  _ that _ isn’t Carmen. It’s either Zack or Ivy. They’re on decoy. Probably Zack, judging.”

“Ohhh,” Amelia said, relief bleeding into their voice, “That would make sense.”

“So, we’re good?” Gray asked, longing for this to be over with, “We can leave now?”

“Wait until Zack does, he’ll snitch if he sees us,” Amelia continued watching Not Carmen from around the corner. Gray followed. It wasn’t long before Zack turned a corner and disappeared from view.

Perfect. Gray breathed a sigh of relief. They could leave, and ground crew located, could get on with their night. He no longer had to worry about getting caught. Amelia could call her bad teen choices a success, they could go back to Minneapolis and Gray could mentally prepare himself for a  _ very  _ awkward reunion. And then, finally, blissfully, return to the house, consider this ordeal over and never again allow Amelia to plan anything, ever, in their collective lives. 

“Okay, we’re good,” Amelia said, “Let’s go,” She walked out of the alleyway. 

And straight into someone hurrying in the other direction.

“Ack!!” Amelia bounced back and hit the concrete. 

“Shit! You okay?” Gray hurried out to help her, but too late, she was already being helped up by a very apologetic set of hands. Apologetic and large hands.

“I am  _ so  _ sorry, are you alright?” 

Gray stepped out just as the absolute wall of woman helped Amelia to her feet. She towered over him, and was made of straight muscle. There was a sleeve of tattoos down her arm, but she had a round, innocent face, and a mid-length, choppy bob. 

“No, no, it’s fine. I should’ve paid more attention. Thank you for your help,” Amelia said, not at all surprised by the fact that the woman was speaking to them in English unprompted.

“That’s quite alright,” the nice woman smiled at them, “Though, I was wondering if the two of you have seen someone wearing red walk by? Could you tell me where he went?”

Shit. Gray felt Amelia’s eyes slide over to him, but kept staring straight ahead. Couldn’t let the girl know they were onto her. Instead, he smiled at her, charming and charismatic and perfectly disarming. And she was charmed and charismatized and perfectly disarmed. 

“Ah, sorry, mate. We haven’t seen anyone like that. We’ll give you a yell if we do, though,”

“Are you sure?” she asked. He and Amelia nodded, almost in sync. She sighed, “Well, thank you for your time, anyway.”

“No worries, sorry about the trouble. You have a great night.”   
  


And he linked arms, a little forcefully, with Amelia, leading her away before she said something incriminating. He guided her down the street, and only let her go when they were out of view of the woman. Gray turned to her,

“We’re following her.”

“No question,” Amelia responded, panicked, “She could bench press the both of us at the same time, Zack’s no match for her.”

Gray watched the woman as she headed down the street, only to turn the same corner Zack just had. How did she even know it  _ was _ Zack? It had taken both Gray and Amelia, people who had seen both Carmen and Zack nearly every day for over a year, a minute or two, and this VILE agent knew from the get go. What was happening? Maybe she had seen Zack already before, but neither of them seemed to be acting like there was any sort of chase. He was in danger. Gray had to help. 

He hurried down the street as quickly as he could without drawing the attention of potential backup, Amelia not far behind him. When they got to the opening the woman had just walked down…

They heard the impact and the yell of someone losing a fight. 

“Shit!” Gray ran in to help, only to be yanked back by Amelia’s hand. He stumbled, grazing his forearm on the rough wall as he bounced against it.   
  


“Are you crazy, you’ll get yourself killed!” Amelia whispered.

“He needs our help!”

“And running in there won’t do shit! Just  _ wait!” _

Gray looked into the street. It was deserted, but well lit, and underneath one of those lights Zack was in a losing battle with the woman. his hat had been knocked to the floor in the struggle. He desperately wanted to run in and help, but Amelia’s hand holding his jacket reminded him not to. But the more and more Gray watched the more and more he understood her logic.

Zack was fighting tooth and nail, but it was clear that he wasn’t winning this one. The woman had him in a headlock, and though he was struggling ferociously, she was already close to overpowering him. 

There was then a movement that Gray couldn’t fully completely comprehend. Was the woman out of her mind? It was as if she’d given Zack the perfect moment to fight back, the perfect opening. But instead, Zack’s eyes went blank and he swayed. He hit the ground with a  _ thump. _

“Zack!”

Amelia pulled him back and shoved a hand over his mouth. He struggled against her but she had a surprisingly strong grip. She shoved him back into the doorway of a nearby building.

“Amelia-”

Amelia leapt into the doorway too, pushing against him, “Gray if you don’t shut the fuck up right now!” 

She went quiet as the footsteps grew louder, pressing closer to him. It was tensely silent, except for Gray’s heartbeat. He had to do something. Anything. He had to help.

The footsteps faded away. Amelia glared at him.

“Keep your mouth  _ shut!” _ she whispered, slowly and coldly.

“But-”

“No! If you get us caught you get us killed, Gray. You get  _ me  _ killed. Do you want that?”   
  


She had a point. Either that, or she knew exactly how to play him. Probably both, knowing her. Gray sighed, and nodded.

“Now, come on. And shush!”

They crept around the corner, again. The woman was talking to someone, a man with jet black hair, wearing purple, who seemingly appeared out of... nowhere. But Gray didn’t have time to question the semantics, the man had Zack slung over his shoulder, and he wanted to beat him to a pulp. The pair were talking, in French, Gray realised, and though he could pick up a few words here and there, most of it was unintelligible.

But then the two parted. The woman left, hurrying down the street, leaving just the man and Zack. 

“Okay, here’s the plan” Amelia whispered. He leant down to listen closer. “We take this guy out, follow her. Understood?”

Gray didn’t need telling twice. Wrenching his jacket from her grip, he charged.

“Wait, wha- Gray!” There were footsteps behind him.

The man turned around in surprise. Gray tackled him. Zack went flying. The man tried to fight back. But before he could, Amelia hit him over the head with a trash can. 

“When I said, ‘take him out,’” she said, a little grumpily, assuring the man was out, “I meant ‘figure out a way to safely neutralise him,’ not ‘run into him and hope to not die.’” 

“You can come at me about unorthodox fighting methods,” he replied, “when you  _ haven’t _ just knocked a guy out with a trash can.”

Amelia glared at him, and then snorted.

“Nice improvising, there,” he told her, laughing.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up. Let’s just see if we can yoink anything off this guy and figure out what to do with him and Zack. Should we wait for him to wake up?”

“Maybe. Maybe we should follow the other woman like you said?” He suggested, as Amelia began searching through the man’s pockets. Gray picked Zack up, inspecting him carefully. He looked battered, but not critically so. What really caught Gray’s attention, though, was the small puncture wound on his neck.

“Hey, Amelia?”

“Look what I found,” Amelia said, in lieu of response. Gray turned to see her holding an all too familiar needle. 

Well, that explained it.

“Didn’t you mention the first batch being stolen?” he asked.

“Oh, shit, yeah!” Amelia replied, eyes going wide with realisation, “Guess I never put it together that it was VILE who stole it,” she shrugged, pocketing the needle.

Gray adjusted Zack a little bit in his arms, “So what do we do with him?”

Amelia looked conflicted, fiddling with her watch again, “Part of me wants to stay and make sure he’s alright, another part of me reckons we should go back to the museum.”

“Look, from what my high school level, passed with a low C, French could pick up from that conversation, they were either asking about the ‘author’ or the ‘other.’ I’m gonna go with the second. If they don’t have Ivy already, they’re targeting her. We need to either warn Carmen or rescue Ivy.”

Amelia nodded, “So, museum? And what about Zack? And this guy?”

“Um...” Gray set Zack down in a doorway, “Let’s just pop him there and hope he wakes up before dawn.”

“Seriously, Gray? Someone will see him!”   
  


“Right,” Gray pulled Zack’s coat off and covered him with it, “There. Subtle, right?”

It was not subtle.

“You know what?” Amelia said, in a tone implying that she might as well just deal with this today, “Yeah! Subtle. Now, where do we leave this guy?”

“How about on the road?”

Amelia stared at him in horror, “Jesus Christ, Gray, don’t even joke about that!”

“Who said anything about joking?”

Amelia spluttered.

“Alright, alright,” he sighed, “Just put him somewhere where he can’t find Zack. Or anyone.”

Amelia carried the man away around the corner, and after several minutes, came back.

“Okay, back to the museum,” she said.

“Wait,” Gray said, suddenly, “We should call Player.”

There was no point trying to avoid it, when not telling Carmen put Zack and Ivy in more danger. He didn’t care if Carmen never let him on another mission again, he just wanted them to be safe. 

“Are you sure? What if he tells Carmen?” Amelia asked.   
  


“There’s getting caught and then there’s putting a friend in danger,” Gray said, insistent, “Call him.”

Amelia nodded, and then reached over to Zack’s covered form. She pulled an earpiece out of his ear and stuck it in her own.

“Hey, Player, what’s up?”

She then flinched and nearly wrenched the piece out of her ear. 

“Ok, ok, please stop yelling. It’s me, Amelia. Obviously. You knew that already. Sorry.”   


Gray had to stifle a laugh.

“Yeah. I’m here too, now. Uh… long story short, there is a potential, tiny,  _ miniscule _ chance that I may have… uh...  _ potentially _ snuck out onto the mission. But that doesn’t matter right now! I need you to check on Ivy, she’s in danger.”

Amelia paused for a moment, and her face contorted in confusion.

“Wha- did you not just hear me? I said-”

Suddenly cut off, she went silent again. 

“Ok, fine, but can you plea-”

She was looking more and more frustrated, beginning to pace slightly. 

“No- no - you need to check on- oh, what the  _ fuck _ does Gray have to do with this!?”

Gray whipped around to look at her. Amelia shrugged, irritably, in response.

“I never said he was with me,” she snapped, “He’s back in Minneapolis. Seeing his parents. Like he told Carmen. He just took me along to give me an alibi, Player, calm down and  _ listen to me!” _

Well, damn. Okay. Gray guessed he was going along with whatever Amelia was planning. He made sure not to make another sound. 

“I don’t know, Player, I feel like I’d be pretty aware if a whole-ass human was with me or not, yes I’m sure! Now, would you  _ please _ stop freaking out over his location and  _ call Ivy? _ Two VILE agents knocked Zack out and I think they might have taken her too, please check in on her!”

Amelia went quiet and the tension was almost palpable. Gray felt the seconds draw on, longer and longer, until,

“Are you sure? Try again!”

Gray’s heart dropped, but he needed confirmation. He needed to be sure.

Amelia nodded very quickly, “Okay. I’m going after her,” and she took the earpiece out before Player could reply.

“Ivy’s unreachable, let’s go,” She started down the street, jaw set and tense. 

“Okay, but why’d you lie to him?” Gray asked, trying to keep up with her.   
  


“It was just to calm him down enough to get a straight answer,” she said, “we can explain it to him later, come on!”

She grabbed his arm, and pulled him onwards. 

***

Getting back to the museum was a test of balancing performative nonchalance against very real urgency. Gray didn’t know whether VILE had Ivy or not, but he wasn’t about to discover that he’d made a mistake after the fact, he had to know where she was, and that she was safe. There was also the fact that Zack was lying, completely out of it, in some random doorway on some random street, only adding to the pressure. 

But it wasn’t long before they were at the museum. After all, they had never really strayed far from it.

“There has to be a side door. Another way in,” Amelia said, staring up at it, “Unless they’re carrying bodies through the air.”

“They might be, you never know. Wait here. I’ll check.”

“Are you sure?” Amelia asked, “It could be dangerous, be careful.”

“Am I ever?” He replied, already leaving her and crossing the snow filled street, climbing the steps leading up to the main structure two at a time.

Gray moved quickly beneath the shelter of the arch. The main building was in front of him, glass doors leading to the museum inside. Maybe there wouldn’t be any harm in trying them, there were very few people around and the doors were concealed by the design of the structure. Gray headed towards them. A leaf hit the ground, just behind him.

Which was weird, considering it had just snowed and there was no wind.

He turned around and grabbed the arm that reached out, pinning it behind his assailant’s back. She gasped. 

“You know, I’m not the most rehearsed on Korean etiquette, but trying to shank people from behind generally isn’t what I consider polite,” he said, voice surprisingly calm for everything he felt. 

The girl tried to pull away, but he held tighter. She reached into her pocket. He tried to grab her other arm, but too late. She pulled something out, it glinted, thin, in the light.

“Oh, no you don’t!” He yanked her hand back perpendicular to her wrist. Wrenched the needle out of her grasp. Kicked her away before she could reach for it.

She turned to face him. Her eyes went wide.

“I know yo-”

“For  _ fuck’s _ sake, you do not!” He grabbed her and jammed the needle into her neck. She gasped in pain. He pressed the plunger. 

The girl went slack, began to sway. 

“Gi-”

Gray covered her mouth, muffling her. She fell back, he staggered, as he suddenly took her entire weight. It was as he was laying her down that he heard the doors burst open.

He whipped around. The girl from before. The girl from before was hurtling towards him. He couldn’t beat her. Backing away, he tried to run. 

Then Amelia was launching herself at her, all 5’2” of tiny body. 

What the fuck.

“No!” He yelled. It was ignored. Amelia stuck the needle in the woman’s arm. It wasn’t enough. The woman hit once. Once, and Amelia slammed into the glass wall around the door, sliding down to the floor.

Gray didn’t have time to worry. He hurtled towards her. The woman was staggering, the needle didn’t knock her out but it was taking effect. Shoulder forward, he rammed into her chest. She flew back. Headfirst into the door, it swung back as she fell with a rattle. 

He staggered, regained his balance. Went to Amelia. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, checking for wounds and wishing this happened a lot less.   
  


“I should be,” she said, slowly, “You go in and find Ivy. Or Carmen. I’m gonna make sure our friend here doesn’t wake up.”

“Are you sure? If she does you’re fucked.”

“Not if I get the drop on her first,” Amelia smiled, “Anyway, I’m pretty sure if I go with you I will end up, like, dead, so maybe go on without me.”

“Oh, so me dying is fine,” he said, smiling back at her, “I see where your priorities are. But you should get out of here. We’ll be back to find you, understand? It’s safer that way.”

“Okay, are you sure?” He nodded. “Help me up, then,” Using Gray forearms for support, Amelia got to her feet. “Good luck,” she told him. 

“When have I ever needed luck?” He smiled, and it was only half forced.

“You want an itemised list, or…”

“Oh, just get out of here,” he said, watching as she slowly made her departure. 

It was only once she was out of sight that he turned, steeled himself, and stepped over the woman’s unconscious form into the museum. 

The foyer was empty, and even though there was a myriad noise coming from upstairs, it felt eerily silent. The snow around him, the grey wall behind him, the pale off white of the room in front of him, the stark contrast of the shadows stretching out across the ground. He knew there were people here and yet it felt so, so empty. 

“If I was an unconscious and hopefully not dead Ivy, where would I be?” he murmured, because VILE didn’t seem like the type to leave any witnesses. He prayed, desperately, that he wasn’t too late, that she was still alive, but to be entirely honest he couldn’t take the idea she might be dead entirely seriously. He knew what VILE could do, but he’d never seen them actually do it. 

Maybe it was just a coping mechanism. If he didn’t truly believe that VILE could kill, maybe he could justify the insistence that his friends aren’t dead.

“Where would I be…” he repeated, looking around. There was a small room to his right, a cloakroom, behind a counter. It would make sense to stash a body there, if only (hopefully) temporarily, it would save the trip of carrying it up the stationary escalators. 

He vaulted the counter, and pushed open the door. The doorway allowed the smallest, dimmest amount of light into the room, just enough to see by. Gray reached for the switch and flicked it. Nothing happened. They must have cut the power.

Smart move. It’s exactly what he would’ve done. 

The cloakroom consisted of three bars along the roof, probably intended to hold coats (obviously), but now it was starkly empty. There was no flash of red, there was no flash of orange, there was no human form in that room other than him.

A dead end. Gray may as well look elsewhere. He turned back to the doorway. 

But then footsteps were echoing through the foyer. And they were too quiet to belong to anyone he knew. At least, anyone he knew who could be here right now. They were going to see him. They were. Gray wasn’t ready for another fight. He couldn’t take it. He had to hide. He pushed the door shut as quickly as he could. Leant against it, holding his breath, he prayed he was quiet enough.

He was. 

The footsteps went straight past him, fading away into almost nothing, and he exhaled again, the adrenaline still coursing through him. On the other side, a muffled curse. A quiet voice murmuring something. Who were they talking to? The unconscious lady? Huh. Weirdo.

It was at that point that Gray remembered that phones were a thing that existed. And that none of that mattered, because the footsteps were coming closer. So quiet, so soft. Gray stayed perfectly, meticulously still. The footsteps stopped. There was the smallest inhale.

And they came 

straight

  
  


towards 

  
  
  
  


the door. 

  
  


Gray backed away from the door, there was nowhere to run. He knew it was lost but he was going to go down with blood in his mouth and he didn’t care whose. Arming himself for the losing battle, ignoring the feeling that he’d already done this before, Gray stood tall. At least it didn’t feel like the ground was moving, this time.   
  


A hand turned the doorknob. The click echoed through the room, was it so shrill when he opened it? He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember anything before now.

Yeah? And since when was that new?

The door swung silently open, Gray didn’t know what to do but brace himself for the inevitable. 

The torchlight blinds him. Which was, as always, a great start.

But then there’s a gasp. The light shaking. It flickered out altogether.

And with his eyes readjusting to the dim light coming through the doorway, he saw a tall silhouette. His heart stuttered to a halt. Because he immediately recognised it.

Even with the suit. Even with… even with the… with  _ everything. _ Gray still recognised him.

After spending a year searching for him, 

How could he not? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	44. The Seoul-Searching Caper, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'd loved to have edited this some more but my laptop has finally decided to end its charging existence and though I can access one in the interim, I can't reach it until tomorrow, so....

Toby’s first, immediate thought, after everything, so incredulous in its nature, was to turn the torch back on.

It was just the absurdity of the situation, he would later justify, it was just a desperate attempt to make sense of the nonsensical. 

He would call it an attempt to settle his heart, it was an attempt to remind himself that this was real, that it wasn’t a dream, it couldn’t be a dream. That wasn’t how it worked, Toby could never dream so lucidly, and even his mind would never be so cruel as to conjure Gray up, right in front of him, flinching in the light.

His second thought, after everything was that by God, did Gray look  _ tired. _

There was so much of what Toby remembered in him, but something was gone, pulled away from him, he held himself with its loss. Was it enough to change him? Was it enough to change the way Toby looked at him? It had been so long, maybe the year had changed Gray the way it had Toby. There had to be some dissonance, right?

No. There didn’t. It was still, irrevocably, irrefutably, Gray, and Toby had no clue what to do with that knowledge. 

“Gray?” It slipped out as a murmur, sudden and soft, Toby wasn’t aware he had formed the word until it was already spoken. He took a step forward, but Gray took a step back. What had the world done to him? What had he lost in Toby’s absence? Toby wasn’t even sure if he wanted to find out.

“What the fuck…” Gray breathed out, very slowly, “What the fuck?”

“Gray,” Toby took another tentative step, raising his hand, like he was trying to calm a skittered creature, “Gray, come here.” 

Gray paused, and Toby wanted to ask why he looked so terrified of him. What happened to him? What had Toby done?

But then Gray took a step forward, and Toby knew that everything, at least, everything in this moment, this second, was alright. And, for just a minute, he could forget about what had to happen next. Ignore the inevitable. Toby met him halfway.

They crashed into each other with an urgency Toby had only known very few times prior, and the next thing Toby registered was that Gray was holding him like he was going to disappear if Gray only so slightly loosened his grip. He was then aware of Gray’s constant warmth, but that was nothing new, after all, he always had been. There was so much familiarity in that one touch, and for a moment, it was as it always had been. 

But the desperation in the way Gray held him reminded Toby that Gray was  _ here. _ Gray was here when he had no reason to be. And Toby had a sickening feeling as to why, but he needed to make sure. Needed to  _ be _ sure

“I missed you,” Gray murmured, and Toby decided that the questions could wait a moment. He held him a little tighter, almost surprised that it was even possible. 

“I missed you, too.”

Gray pulled away, slowly. “Toby,” he asked, sounding like he still didn’t believe what he was saying, “What the hell are you wearing?”

Toby laughed, in sudden disbelief, but he supposed that made sense. Gray wouldn’t have known about the outfits, Gray wouldn’t have known about anything.

“My uniform,” he told him, and Gray stared at him, incredulous. A hand reached out and touched his mask. He knew how bizarre it must have looked.

“I… I… shit, Toby, I thought you were  _ dead.” _

“Oh, Gray, no,” he put his hands on Gray’s shoulders, “I’m fine, I’ve been fine this whole time. We’re fine.”

“Matt?”

“She’s fine. She’s here.”

“She’s here?” Gray asked it like he didn’t believe it could be true, that it was too much to be true. Toby nodded, “Please, can I… can we…”

But Toby shook his head. Because reality must always come crashing in, open the doors that were supposed to stay closed. Gray was not supposed to be here, this was their graduating heist, Toby was supposed to leave this all behind, break the surface and emerge someone reforged. Gray, as much as Toby regretted it, wished it didn’t have to be this way, had to be left behind to the past. And yet, here he was, right before Toby’s eyes. 

“Gray, you have to know why we’re here, right?” He asked. Gray looked down.

“VILE… they took you… Toby, I’m sorry.”   
  


“Yes, they took us, but we joined. We’re VILE operatives, both of us.”

Gray took a step back, staring at him, “Joined? Wait, what do you mean, joined?”

“What do you think I mean?”

Gray didn’t respond immediately. Then, with slow but certain disbelief, 

“What, you  _ chose  _ this!?”

Toby nodded.

“Wha- but - but  _ how?  _ How could yo-”

“What other choice could we make? Our hands were tied.”

Gray flinched, “Toby, I-”

“Don’t,” Toby raised a hand, silencing him, “It wasn’t your fault,” he didn’t know if he actually believed it, but it was what Gray needed to hear.

“But Carmen, Carmen told me…”

So it was as Toby had suspected. He should’ve known Sandiego would be involved. After all, they’d just been hunting down her decoys. The cruelty wasn’t lost on Toby, bringing Gray onto a heist where they’d inevitably meet each other. She was either very smart, or very sadistic. Probably both, Toby concluded. 

“Carmen?” He still asked it, anyway, “You’re with her?”

“I joined, to save you two. Amelia came with me - you don’t know her, you’ll meet her - you’ll like her.”

Oh, lord, what had Gray gotten himself into on his behalf? 

But Gray was smiling, now. Why was he smiling?   
  


“Toby, come back with us. Get Matt and come back with us.”

How did Toby not realise this was going to happen? How could he not foresee this inevitable choice? It was always fate, wasn’t it? Fate was the only one so cruel as to place the question onto the one person who could influence Toby’s answer. He wanted to hold him and never let go because he knew he needed it. He wanted to follow him, go with him, he always did. But there was another part of him, the louder one, the logical one, the one that Gray had seen in him when he first decided to speak to him all those years ago. The one that saw his friends in the upper floors, the one that, when faced with the  _ impossible _ decision, decided that they were more important than the friend in front of him.

“I can’t. Gray, I can’t. We can’t.”

“What? No, you don’t have to worry,” Gray was still smiling, and for the first time in his life Toby hated it, despised it with a passion. “Carmen will understand. She’ll keep you both safe, VILE won’t hurt you, they can’t, not with-”

“I know, but we can’t. It’s just not possible.”

“I’ll stop them. I’ll protect you, both of you, you don’t have to pretend anymore, you don’t-”

“I’m not pretending,” He said, loudly enough for Gray to stop talking, to look at him, properly. Toby breathed in deep, “Neither of us are. Gray, I don’t think you understand-”

“Understand what?”   
  


“It’s like I said before, We chose this. We  _ chose _ this. I’m happy here. I have friends up there that I care about. I’m not coming with you.”

And, finally, Gray’s smile faded. The realisation doused the flame, but it faded so slowly. The melody trailed off, the crescendo went unresolved. Maybe it was better that way.

“You’re…” His voice was slow, trailing, as he was facing the truth, finally, “Why can’t you choose-”

There was a gasp that didn’t come from either of them. A horrified gasp, and Toby turned around to face the woman they had been warned about the moment they had started planning this heist. The one, the only, the great Carmen Sandiego, who was staring at them with her hands over her mouth. 

“Carmen, wait!” Gray said, suddenly, “Don’t hurt him! He’s my-” he stopped, suddenly, breathing quickly. There were tears in his eyes. 

Toby couldn’t bear to look at it. He turned to Sandiego, “You know who I am, don’t you?”

She nodded, slowly. Their eyes met, properly met, and in the shared moment of understanding he said more to her than he ever should’ve known how to. Suddenly, there was more to tell her than he could ever say aloud. Gray had become their common tongue. 

Toby knew the trade Sandiego was offering. He was offering the same, and they both knew it. She nodded, gently.

“Take care of him,” Toby nudged his head gently in Gray’s direction.

“Wait…” Gray said, voice soft and agonised, begging. But Toby ignored it.

“Please. Keep him safe.”

“Of course,” Sandiego replied, stiff and short and formal, but with a surprising amount of kindness for a sworn enemy.

“No! Toby, wait! Please!” There was a sudden scuffle of feet, but Carmen stepped in, putting a hand on Gray’s chest, trying to still him. Toby knew he couldn’t keep himself here, it was too much, too soon. It might make him question his choice, and he couldn’t question himself, not now, not here. 

  
  


Toby walked away.

“Toby! Please! I’m sorry, don’t leave! Don’t leave…”

The last part of his last sentence went unsaid, but Toby heard it, anyway. He closed his eyes, if there were tears on his mask the others would notice it. He left the room, trying to quiet the swell of guilt inside of him.

“Wait! Please!”

Gray was sobbing, now. It echoed throughout the empty foyer, and it was nearly enough to make Toby turn around. He could hear Sandiego struggle to hold him back, and it was nearly enough to make him rethink.

His eyes were burning. Toby wiped them away and climbed up the stairs. 

Matt ran to him the moment he reached the second floor, “Where were you, we were worried!” She said, checking him over quickly.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Front guard’s out completely, though.”

“Ophelia?”

“Knocked out, I didn’t get a close enough look at her.”

“Was it Sandiego?” Kolya asked, holding a stack of boxes. Chae-Min was behind him, holding a far smaller pile.

“Yes.”

“Shit, Magpie,” Matt breathed, “Are you okay?”   
  
“I’m fine. She… won’t be bothering us, anymore.”

“What?” Matt asked, “But I thought, I thought I heard what sounded like a man crying, I thought it was you, that’s why we came.”

“No, nothing happened. Everything was fine. She ran when I confronted her.”

“Are you sure?” Matt asked, suspiciously, looking at him. The sobbing had faded away into nothing.

“Giselle, It’s fine. I wasn’t crying or anything. Whatever you heard, it wasn’t me,” he told her.

“Okay, fine. We’ve got everything, let’s get the others and get out of here.”

“Sandiego should be gone by now,” Kolya said, “Let’s go.”

Matt turned around, and Toby blinked the tears out of his eyes. At least, that way, he could tell her one whole truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is such an unfortunate chapter to have my computer compromised on but you know what I'm doing my best.


	45. Toby, and the Partytime Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a VILE party. Toby meets a stalker.

“To the new recruits!” Crow cried. Everyone around them cheered, and Matt looked at him, eyes wide with surprise but smiling anyway. Toby staggered back a step, and in the shock of walking in on this, the night’s events were swept from his mind. Someone pressed a drink into his hands and, momentarily, he allowed himself to be swept away in the confusion of the revelry.

There were tens of other agents around him, offering him their congratulations, patting him on the back and asking him a myriad of questions. He repeated the heist, over and over again, until he had it memorised, but he didn’t mind. He laughed and smiled and enjoyed the attention.

But as much as he tried to set it aside, Gray kept creeping through the edges of Toby’s memory, particularly when he had to leave out their entire meeting from every retelling. It got to a point where the gap in the tale began to feel like a torn tooth, he couldn’t stop running his tongue over the place it had once been, even though it hurt.

No matter how much Toby tried to ignore it, the pain eventually grew unbearable. 

Matt was too caught up in the group of agents that had surrounded her to notice when he slipped away from her entirely. He knew he should’ve told her about Gray, should’ve said something the moment they had left the museum, maybe even earlier, but if he told her about what had happened in the cloakroom it was eat at her mind the way it had his. It was best to leave it, leave it to a point where she could regret her decision to stay rather than continually and obsessively question it. He’d tell her in the morning, when it would be too late for Toby to rectify his mistake and Matt would be furious, but she would also be safe. Or maybe he’d never tell her at all, and she would find out through some other means and never speak to him again.

If Toby was entirely honest, the third seemed like the best option, at the moment. Maybe they could quell the grief before it got to that point. 

He downed his drink, and tried not to think about it anymore. 

Toby was surprised about how much set up had gone into this, the older operatives had a lot of faith that they’d complete the mission, even with Carmen Sandiego on their tails. Her appearance was inevitable, that was what the Faculty had told them, they’d even called a special meeting to warn them about her. Toby and Matt had looked pointedly ahead, staring blankly at her image, as every operative in that room pretended they had no clue who Carmen was.

The operatives were using the entire entrance foyer and the upper floor adjacent, and it seemed like every active VILE agent had turned up tonight. Whoever had managed to get enough alcohol for the entirety of them, Toby thought, was either a genius or a bastard. 

He took another drink off of who knows where, and took another sip. Whatever he was drinking was either stronger than he thought or more of a lightweight than he thought. Or maybe it was just the exhaustion of the night finally wearing in on him, that was probably it. 

It had taken every single trick he had seen Gray use to keep the others from noticing that anything was wrong with him, which probably made what Toby was trying to hide all the more painful. Even Matt hadn’t seen anything, and though he counted that a miserable success, it had taken a toll on him. How Gray managed to do this so naturally was a mystery to him, Toby was exhausted.

He cut through the crowds of agents easily, searching for the nearest wall to lean against. He was good at this, VILE had taken him in for this, because even though he was the guest of honour he could disappear with ease. It was an important skill he had learnt growing up; how to vanish in a crowd silently, how to move through the house noiselessly. He found the closest place to lean against and did so, taking another sip. The heat gathered at his nape, his brain suddenly felt like it was being filled with cloth. He blinked, forcefully, trying to pull it out.

“This party is for you, and yet you’re not celebrating?” A voice made Toby’s head turn to the right. Recognition overtook the fog.

“Hey, you’re the one who’s been stalking me!” He said, and perhaps he should’ve thought more about that before he did so, but the stocky man with tired eyes laughed.

“I suppose it must look that way, I’m surprised you noticed! We thought we were being subtle, but Tigress is very… forward, in retrospect,” He extended a hand. “My name’s El Topo.”

Toby paused, then took it. “Magpie, but I think you know that.”

El Topo nodded. “Congratulations on your first heist. That’s no small feat.”

“I’m aware,” Toby smiled, “They always throw a party after?”

“Yeah, it’s tradition. Though I expect this one to get a little messy. We haven’t had a graduation party since my class’. And even  _ that _ one was pretty crazy. Crackle made us all do what he called ‘shoeys,’ called it a rite of passage. Tigress hated it, and in hindsight it was pretty disgusting, but I was too drunk to really think about it at the time.”

Toby snorted, “Yeah, it’s an Australian thing, pretty gross, but there you are.”

“Well, that would make sense. Crackle told us all he couldn’t hold his liquor but in comparison to us…” El Topo laughed, “We were _wasted, _I barely remember anything. But I remember that Crackle just kept drinking and drinking and seemed fine.”

“Crackle? Another operative?” 

El Topo looked away, his smile faded.

“An… old friend. Not an operative anymore.”

Old friends. What was it with tonight and old friends?

“Ah. Something happened tonight, didn’t it? That is why you’re so… withdrawn.”

Toby blinked. He didn’t realise he had said it out loud. His brain felt foggy. In hindsight, perhaps that’s what made him so quick to speak. Maybe it was just the fact that El Topo seemed genuinely trustworthy, even in a place like this, where he had to trust every single person here with his life. Regardless, Toby felt like he could tell him everything. It was probably the alcohol, speaking more than anything. 

“Yes. Something did.”

“Our first heist was also quite eventful. You met someone from your life before VILE, no?”

Toby nodded. Was this normal? Did every VILE operative have to face this? No, that couldn’t be true, there couldn’t have been anyone else in this room who’d had to confront what Toby had. 

“In Korea?” El Topo asked, “But, I thought you were Australian?”   
  


“I am… the thing is…” Toby finished the drink. He knew he needed it. “The thing is that he’s working with Carmen Sandiego.”

He turned his head quickly to assess El Topo’s reaction. He didn’t seem like the type to keep his face impassive, but he was doing a commendable effort. There was a set in his face from trying to keep his eyes from widening, but his knuckles were white around his cup. 

“I… uh… oh,” he said, “That… must have been difficult. What happened with him? When he saw you.”

“What could I have done? It turns out… he thought I’d been kidnapped, he joined her to save me.”

In retrospect, the situation was so dire it was a little comical. Toby would’ve laughed at the sheer unfortunateness of it all.

“What did you do?”   
  


Toby sighed, “What I had to. I told him no. But, uh, he didn’t take it well. It got to the point where she - Sandiego - had to hold him back.”   
  


“And she also thought you guys had been kidnapped? But VILE would never, she’d-” El Topo stopped as Toby nodded.

“I know. But with the circumstances around Giselle and I’s recruitment, it would appear to him to be that way.”

El Topo nodded, but he wasn’t looking at him. He was looking away, and Toby followed his gaze. To Tigress, who was laughing with another operative.

“He can’t have been happy,” El Topo murmured, and Toby wondered if he was even talking to him at all. “Not with her. Not when he found out. And there’s no way… she would’ve had to….”

“What are you talking about?” Toby asked. 

“Oh, nothing,” El Topo said, quickly, “But, I know how it feels to have to leave behind someone you care about. To have to move on from a loss. Sometimes it means making foes out of friends, but you always have to continue onwards.”

“So I’ve been told.” 

“That’s what brings us together,” El Topo continued, gesturing to the party around them, “We’re each other’s family, now. It hurts to lose the people you love, but you find more along the way. You’re one of us, now. This’ll get better.”

“I know.”

“It’ll  _ all _ get better, I think,” El Topo said, “I think we can fix this. But you’re one of us. You’re family, regardless of what happens now.”

Toby didn’t know what to say, his chest was warm. El Topo patted his shoulder and smiled at him. “I’m glad you’re here. Magpie. This is where you’re meant to be,” he left Toby standing there, and approached Tigress, greeting her with a hand on her shoulder. She leaned in to listen. 

Toby smiled, gently, to himself. The fog in his brain had cleared a littled, and it felt like things were starting to make sense. The guilt that had coiled his stomach into ropes was seeming more and more ludicrous as he began to untangle it, and already it was starting to fade away. He could do this, now. He could move on.

“Magpie!” He heard a giggly, tipsy yell from across the room. He sighed, smiled, and let it all go. 

Let Gray go.

If only for just one night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I have seen the show. I have seen the 2 seasons of the show. I follow the Instagram account. I consume the fandom content. I know that El Topo's name is, in fact, El Topo. This is true. I have watched the show. That is his name. I know this.
> 
> Me, 5 seconds later: Ok, fair, I see that. But I raise you: what if it isn't?


	46. Gray, Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carmen confesses, Gray makes a mistake. Amelia follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little late on account of me literally graduating yesterday. I'd like to apologise but also I'm not really sorry but thanks for your understanding! This week has been really crazy.
> 
> Also I know I said that my deadline for the fic would be today, but that's not happening so... anyway! Enjoy!
> 
> One more thing, there's a paragraph that may ivolve some imagery that some people may find too violent or just icky, it should be fine, but it made me feel a little weird writing it (that could just be intrusive thought, who knows), so if you want to skip it it's the paragraph that starts with Gray talking about sewing his heart onto his sleeve.

Zack, awake, but leaning slightly on Amelia, was the only person not surprised to see him. He just looked at Gray, eyes still unfocused. He was shaking a little, from the cold or the drug, Gray didn’t know. 

He didn’t particularly care, either. There was a point where it would have mattered but this wasn’t it, not anymore. Every moment before he walked into that cloakroom suddenly meant nothing, even the memories of it were hazy, it was impossible to believe that rescuing Zack and seeing Toby had happened on the same night. Remembering everything before Toby was like looking through stained glass. The cloakroom was the only thing he could retain in sharp detail.

And retain it he did. All he could do was play it over and over again in his head. When Toby had called him to him, and Gray had thought that everything was going to be alright. When Carmen had had to hold him back, how he’d clawed and fought and struggled against her, before the desperation became too much and reality sunk in. He’d hit the floor then. He doesn’t know how Carmen had gotten him out. How they’d ended up on that plane. 

But he’d spent the entirety of it with his elbows on his knees, curled up and staring at the floor. He didn’t cry, this time, but he didn’t know if he  _ could _ cry anymore. It was as if he had been scraped out and left behind on the cloakroom floor, he was completely hollow. The entire plane was completely silent, Amelia had tried to ask what had happened. He just vaguely shook his head in response.

Gray had looked up, at one point, to see nearly everyone’s eyes on him. He simply looked back down again. There was nothing he could say. 

He didn’t sleep, barely moved, for the entire 12 hour flight. But how could he? After everything that happened, how could he? How could he…

No. Gray knew exactly how he could. He knew exactly why Toby had turned his back on him. This stupid idiot, how could Gray not have seen this coming? This was what he got, after all, he should’ve remembered that. This was what happened when Gray lost control of himself. This was what he got for thinking he deserved to be wanted, for thinking he deserved to want. THis was what happened when he believed he could be honest.

This was what he got. He got scraped raw.

This is the one thing Gray knows he deserves. This pain, this loneliness, this was the time when he had to face the truth that he spent his entire life avoiding. What he’d spent years trying to disguise, from himself as much as anyone. It was one of those times when the truth came out, and Gray had no choice but to meet it face to face. To confront the void of the fact that he didn’t deserve to have worth, not to anyone, least of all himself. 

After all, if Toby had to see that, it was only fair that Gray had to, as well.

That was why he left, after all.

Just when Gray thought he couldn’t cry anymore, a tear fell onto the airplane floor.

He should never have let the act drop. He should’ve known better but Gray, the stupid,  _ fucking _ fool, Gray, had sewn his heart onto his sleeve with the same hand that held the cards. He wondered why it bled, he dug the needle into his own wrist, that was it! There was no one else to blame but himself, when his tendons snapped like strings. When his hand convulsed uncontrollably, no matter how much he tried to still it, as the muscles tried desperately to reach for the severed connection. When he looked at the fork in his veins, and how he had punctured it exactly where they split into two. That was where the needle still stayed, pushed halfway in and thread attached, he could feel the coldness of the metal when he pulled his wrist back, as his muscles tried to move around it. 

The image was too strong, it made the hollow of Gray’s neck tighten, like he had swallowed tree bark. Instinctively, he grabbed his wrist and pulled it to his chest, gasping a little, as if holding it would keep it safe from himself. But all it made him think about was how easily he could crush it, as he pressed his hand around the bone. 

He couldn’t let it go, though.

Gray stayed like that until the wheels touched the asphalt. He headed to the car set to take them home, and he barely remembered where he was moving. It was like watching himself in the third person, the only part of him that was there was the part that was keeping him moving. the rest was back in the cloakroom, back with Toby.

Toby, who had turned around and walked away.

Toby, who was right to. 

They were back at the house before Gray knew it. But the moment he had stepped out of the car Carmen grabbed his wrist. He was brought back down to earth, failing to stop himself from flinching.

“Upstairs. With me. Now,” Carmen said, face intentionally expressionless. Gray just nodded. 

“Carmen, wait,” Amelia rushed forward, between them, “I was the one who decided to come, Gray never- he never wanted - he only came because-”

“I’ll deal with you later,” Carmen cut her off, shortly, “Right now, Gray, come with me.”

“But-”

“Amelia, please,” Gray said, “Just… let me handle this.”

Amelia watched him leave, anxiety all over her face, as he went with Carmen. Following her upstairs, Gray wasn’t fully gone, but he wasn’t fully  _ there,  _ either, as if he watching himself on screen. Like it was some type of movie. Nothing was real but the tension was building, and the fear in his gut was still, palpably, there.

Carmen was leading him up to her workroom, he didn’t realise that until she was unlocking the door. Gray would’ve killed to get in here, but after everything that had happened, wanting to get in here, wanting to know what Carmen knew, meant nothing. It meant nothing to him now. He had no reason to care anymore. He had the answers he was looking for. This was what he got.

And in the end, the room was nothing special. There were shelves filled with folders and files, a monitor set up by the windows, a couch and a coffee table kept to one side. He shut the door behind him, on instinct.

“So…” Carmen said, unsure where to begin.

“So,” he didn’t know what else to say, either.

“You saw Toby.”

Hearing it aloud reminded him that this wasn’t just some intrusive thought. He shut his eyes tight, incredibly tight, before the emotion overcame him, he didn’t want to start crying again, but it must have looked like he was about to, because Carmen drew him into her arms.

“It’s okay, it’ll be okay,” Carmen murmured, when he instinctively held her back. “I know what this is like. It’ll be okay.”

“I don’t… I can’t… I can’t understand how...” He didn’t know what he was trying to say, the words were just being spoken. None of it meant anything to him. But he was still talking, “I… I… he left me… Carmen, he left me… he…”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” Carmen squeezed him tighter. “You were never supposed to see that.”

Gray opened his eyes, suddenly. 

What? 

Never  _ supposed _ to? Why, out of everything Carmen could say to comfort him, would she say  _ that?  _ Toby being in that room wasn’t some misstep in a grand plan, they weren’t pieces to be moved by the powers that be. Gray hadn’t stepped out of his fated line, he didn’t have one. Toby in that room was an anomaly, it was something that was never supposed to happen. This wasn’t how the story was supposed to end. So why was Carmen making it out like it was the other way around? 

Maybe it was just a turn of phrase, he could justify it under that regard, just strange wording. Just  _ very  _ strange wording. But this wasn’t the type of misinterpretation made out of hand. Carmen wasn’t the type of person to confuse her words like that. It wouldn’t make sense for her to make her meaning that vague. This didn’t make sense. There was no way Carmen could’ve made that mistake.

Unless…

Unless…

No.

No, it couldn’t be. There was no way. This was Carmen he was talking about,  _ Carmen.  _ Carmen, who would never lie to him. He trusted that in her, he trusted her. She would never.

She would never.

But ice cold, pale silver, sickening dread was pouring into him like liquid mercury. Because he could always disguise his outside opinions, could always conceal, but it only ever went skin deep. Gray could run from the truth, but he could never deny it.

And the truth, as horrific as he found it, was that Carmen’s gasp in the cloakroom wasn’t at seeing Toby.

It was at seeing  _ him. _

“You… knew,” It was barely a whisper, “Carmen, you knew?”

Carmen pulled away and her face went ashen. It was all Gray needed to know. 

“No,” he said, because apparently there was still some part of him that needed confirmation. The idealist. The idiot, “Carmen, you wouldn’t, you didn’t…”

But Carmen just nodded, biting her lip, but otherwise remaining calm, “I did. I found out the day after we met in your apartment.”

  
After they met in his apartment? Gray felt like his lungs had closed themselves off. That was nearly a year ago, that was… and this entire time… she knew… she knew…

He trusted her and she knew. 

“So… when you invited me to join… when you told me we were going to find them… you already knew where they were?” He asked, breathing shakily. Carmen leant back against the desk, but her eyes didn’t break from his. 

  
“Player, picked up on some VILE movements, regarding new recruits, before the apartment incident,” she began, “He only put it together after you told us Matt and Toby were missing, and even then we weren’t entirely sure.”

“But you found out, didn’t you?” Gray asked. He didn’t realise he had pulled his wrist back to his chest until after it was pressed deep into his sternum.

“It didn’t take long to confirm it,” Carmen looked down, finally, it was starting to feel like her gaze was acidic, the more she looked at him, “There were, signals, coming from Singapore, I think it was. About two recruits that were being held there, in preparation. It was them.”

“So Player knew, as well?” The shock was beginning to wear off, but it wasn’t a dissipation of emotion, it was a replacement. Something else was flooding in, something Gray couldn’t yet put a name to. But most of Gray’s life had been inexplicable emotions, because it was never exactly empathetic intelligence that got him scholarships, that made people proud of him. He’d decided he could set it aside.

He wished he hadn’t.

“You and Amelia were the only people who didn’t,” Carmen said, “I worried about telling Zack and Ivy, particularly when you got close to them, but they knew what was at stake.”

Everyone but him and Amelia knew exactly where his friends were. And they had kept it a secret, kept it quiet for so long even when they knew how much it meant to him. Had it been any other time, had it been about anything else, he would’ve been humiliated beyond belief. 

But it wasn’t any other time. Gray suddenly recognised the emotion coursing through him. Bright, blinding white, all consuming heat. 

It was rage.

“So this whole time…” he started, and even though he could feel his heartbeat in his ears there was only the slightest tremor in his voice, “you knew this  _ whole time? _ All of you?”

“I did what was best,” Carmen said, “I’m sorry it had to be kept from you.”

“You’re…  _ sorry? _ ” Gray was incredulous, there was buzzing in his ears, he could hear faint static very distantly. “After everything I went through, you were just watching that, you were  _ fine _ letting me go through that, and now you’re  _ sorry!?” _

“We didn’t know what you would do if you found out. It’s unfortunate,” Carmen said, calmly, “But it’s what was right.”

“That was  _ right?! _ This was right!? Carmen, I thought they were  _ dead.  _ I genuinely could not believe that we could find them,” His voice was rising, but he didn’t care, “I was playing off of the singular  _ shred _ of deniability that I had that they were still out there, do you know what that’s like!? The  _ only _ thing I could trust in was your word, and-”

And that was what he got. That was what he got for trusting that someone would do right by him, of all people. How long will it take for him to learn? His parents grieve, Toby leaves, Carmen lies. They see him, truly and completely. They hate him for it. This is just what happens. Everything Gray was feeling right now was just a cruel, bitter reminder of what happened when he believed otherwise. 

This was what he deserved.

The thought didn’t make the buzzing dissipate, however, it only made it louder.

“How dare you?” he asked, when no other words could explain the way he was feeling, “How fucking dare you? How could you keep that from me?”

“Oh, like you’ve never kept anything from me,” Carmen snapped. Gray started, narrowing his eyes at her. 

“I’m sorry, did I keep things from you for an entire fucking year?”

“Oh? In that case, when were you planning on telling me about the  _ robbery, _ Graham?”

Well. Gray shut his eyes, exhaling through his nose. “Player  _ did _ tell you,” he said, after a moment, “Little fucker.”

“There was an arrest warrant out, Gray, I don’t know what you expected,” Carmen said, straightening up, “And don’t blame Player for  _ your  _ bullshit.”

“My bullshit!? I wasn’t even  _ involved!” _ It was an instinctive decision to lie, Gray didn’t think about it until he’d already done it. And perhaps throwing Matt and Toby under the bus wasn’t the most graceful of moves, but Toby abandoned him in a cloakroom in Korea, he could handle it.

But Carmen just raised an eyebrow, looking at him like he was particularly pathetic. “You’re still trying to weasel your way out of this? For once in your life, Gray, give up the goddamn lies.”

“For once in my life?” He demanded, glaring at her. It was getting hard to hear. “What the hell do you know about my life?”   
  


“I know enough to know that you dragged your friends into that mess. I know enough to know that you’re a liar, and you couldn’t be trusted with what happened to them because you probably would’ve gone off the rails and betrayed me because  _ that is what you do _ . _ ” _

“What I do? Do you really trust me so fucking little?”

“Well if you gave me a single reason to-”

“I gave you  _ hundreds _ of reasons to!”

“Did you, or did you not try to land the world’s shittest heist on the Sydney Opera House, Gray? Just tell me, I’m done playing games,” Carmen stared him down, piercing. Gray decided it was time to give it up.

“Fine. I did. Happy now?” he snapped.

“And how can you expect me to trust you, after that? Hm?”

“Oh, so I keep one thing from you and it warrants me losing the two people I cared about most for a year” Louder again, Gray felt like the white noise was starting to consume him, “I kept the events of  _ one night  _ a secret, you intentionally lied to me about my friends being alive. Those things aren’t fucking comparable, Carmen!”

“A secret? One night? That’s all you kept?” Carmen asked, narrowing her eyes and stalking towards him, “What about the part where you planned the entire thing? Where you roped them into it?”

Gray swallowed, and took a step back. There was no way, Carmen wouldn’t bring that up, she wouldn’t have the audacity, not  _ now. _

“Or what about the part where you stood by and watched Toby take the blame? Were you gonna tell me about  _ that? _ Or did you not have the guts?”   
  


“Stop twisting the truth, Carmen…”

“Twisting the truth!?” Carmen laughed sardonically, “ _ You _ manipulated Toby into working with you, no, you manipulated the both of them, because that’s what you know how to do best!” Carmen’s voice was steadily rising, “You’re the reason you are all in this mess, do not _ try _ to deflect  _ your  _ guilt onto  _ me!” _

“Excuse me?” he was shouting as well, “This is not about my guilt! This is about you being too much of a coward to tell me the  _ truth!” _

“You know fucking  _ what,  _ Gray?” Carmen was face to face with him, now. “I’m sorry for what you’re going through, and I am  _ sorry  _ that you have to hear this, but maybe there’s a  _ reason _ Toby chose VILE over you. Have you ever considered,  _ Gray, _ that you might of just made your own fucking bed, here, because I’m starting to think that,  _ maybe, _ that might be the case!”

It may as well have been a physical blow. Gray almost took a step back from the shock of it. For a moment, it felt like he was underwater. She had seen it, Carmen had seen it, Carmen knew. And hearing it from her lips tore him apart. He didn’t realise he was crying again until he had to wipe the tears away. Pathetic.

“You know what? Fine! Fine...” he said, trying to be heard over the static, which was louder than a tempest, now. _“Maybe_ I do deserve this! But _one thing _I know is that I don’t deserve to hear shit like that from pathetic little cowardly _cunts _like you, Carmen!”

“How dare yo-”

The sound of a hand hitting flesh rang out, harsh and sharp through the room.

But all Gray could hear, after that, was the static. He didn’t know why Carmen had stopped talking. He didn’t know why his hand was raised. It was only when he felt the tingling pain of harsh impact on his palm, when he saw Carmen raise her own hand to her cheek, staring at him in a combination of shock and horror, did he realise what he had done.

Oh.

Oh,  _ gods _ , no.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. This  _ wasn’t.  _ This… he was in control of this… he was in control… that’s why he allowed it for so long… he could control his anger… he could, he would never do something like this… never…  _ never _ …

This was what he got for thinking he could be trusted… 

This was what he deserved.

Gray tore from the room. He couldn’t look back.

“Gray?” He heard Amelia call out to him, “Gray! What’s going on!?”   
  


He ignored her. He ran down the stairs, slammed the front doors behind him and bolted.

He had taken his jackets off when he… somewhere, it didn’t matter. The late night was frigid, it bit at his skin, it felt like the tears were going to freeze on his face. That’s right, he was crying. Why the fuck was he crying? Was he really going to play this game? Play the part where  _ he’s  _ the victim?

He wonders why he disgusts himself so much sometimes. 

But the crying’s making it hard to breathe, it’s difficult to maintain a consistent rhythm between sudden, shuddering breaths that convulsed through him. Gray had to stop this, this cowardice, and he couldn’t bring himself to. If he stops he doesn’t know what he would do. Maybe he would claw out his throat. Snap his own wrists in two. It would be what he deserved, after all.

Maybe he would pick his nails out, one by one. 

A metallic clang startled him. He nearly tripped over the manhole. The sudden reminder that he was here, that there was a world that existed outside of him and his thoughts.

And he didn’t know where he was.

All he knew was that he was at a river’s edge. There were closed buildings to his right. And the street was empty. The streetlights were yellowed and old and even though they lit the road fully he had never felt more uneasy. There wasn’t a single star in sight, not just because of the city, Gray could tell by the feel that there was a thick cloud cover. It was probably going to rain soon, he knew it in his gut, but it was no comfort to him at all.

Here he was, in a city of a million, and he was somehow completely alone. 

“Gray!”

Hm?

Not  _ completely _ alone. Not yet. And it was Amelia. 

Of course it was Amelia.

Gray couldn’t face her. He knew he should keep moving, get away before he let her get too close, because then he couldn’t stop himself from caving in. And how long would it be then, before she found out? Before the inevitable? The abandonment?

Well, calling it abandonment was him just being ridiculous. He had to stop with these crocodile tears. He had to leave. 

“Gray!” Amelia called out, panting and shrill, “Gray, wait! Please!” 

It was really a mistake, getting to know Amelia as well as he did. Had he thought this through he wouldn’t have had to confront the fact that abandoning her would tear the both of them apart. Amelia wouldn’t just let him leave, she would drag him back if she had to. That was what she was doing right now, after all. But he was as set in his ways as she was, the only way she could ever succeed would be through a force that would only break her in the process. 

And Gray might just know what that feels like. He knows the desperation in her voice. Knows the implications. He’s been here before. He knows what it feels like. 

And as much as this was what he deserved, Gray knew one thing: Amelia didn’t deserve this. A raindrop fell, heavy, onto his forehead. Maybe this would all be alright. He stopped. Turned around. 

He swore, even from a distance, that Amelia could’ve sobbed with relief. Gray didn’t know what was going to happen with Carmen. He didn’t know if he would be forgiven, if he could even forgive, but he knew that at least, however angry Amelia might be, she was here, right now. Maybe he could figure it out with her by his side. Maybe they could make it all make sense.

And suddenly, it all didn’t feel quite so foreboding, anymore. Suddenly, it felt like everything could get better. 

All it needed was for Gray to go back.

But then the figure, from the manhole behind Amelia, struck her from behind. 

“Amelia!” The scream Gray’s throat.

Amelia crumpled. The man began to pull her back with him. Gray couldn’t let him, the panic made him move faster than he ever had before. He sprinted towards them, he could make it if he-

Sharp pain in his neck. Sharp, needle pain, in his neck. 

Arm on his shoulder. Arm pushing him down. The weight was too heavy, the weight was too heavy. He can’t move. He can’t fight it.

No.

No!

Amelia!

  
  


His mouth opened but he couldn’t speak. His tongue, his tongue, too heavy to lift.

“I’m sorry, mon ami,” he heard it from far away. His vision was beginning to shake, he had to get to Amelia, he had to! He- “But it’s the only way.”

Gray tore away from the arm holding him, and he staggered forward… he could make it… he could make it if he… Gray reaches for her…

His knees collapse. But he feels someone else taking on his weight… the elasticity of it… before he hit the ground… no… please… his vision is blurring, it will give out soon, and she doesn’t deserve any of this…

But he saw the image of a woman… looking down at him, he couldn’t read her face...she was wearing a mask… the stripes...

His eyesight finally gave. Everything vanished, all at once.


	47. Graham Alone (Reprise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gray accepts it

When Gray next came to, he was only aware of the fact that he was both moving and sobbing.    
  


He didn’t know where he was. He was lying down, that much he could figure out, but it was as if the connection between his eyes and his brain had been cut, he couldn’t rationalise nor register what was going on around him. Sobs were convulsing through him, wherever he was, it was spinning. Every now and again, a bump jolted him. But he couldn’t stop crying. 

“Could you  _ please  _ shut him up?” A familiar voice… a woman’s voice… with an American accent, where was she from? “I can’t keep listening to this.”    


“What do you expect me to do? I am trying not to crash the damn car,” Distantly, Gray remembered this as the voice that had just spoken to him, so long ago. French guy, that was right. 

“I wasn’t talking to  _ you,  _ obviously. Antonio, you do something, this is just fucking painful.” 

There was someone approaching him, he could hear the footsteps. Why were they walking in a car? Maybe it was a van or something, huh, that would be neat. It would also make sense, but even then, they should put their seatbelt on, shouldn’t they? Wasn’t that the rule? Was Gray even wearing a seatbelt? He should be, he was the _ master _ of safe driving skills…

“Hi, Gray,” this voice, he had no clue who  _ this  _ guy was, “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“It’s those stupid needles,” It was the woman’s voice, again, where did he know it from? “They screw with you. As if his mind needs any more screwing with.”

“What did you want me to do, Sheena?”

“That wasn’t a personal attack, would you chill out?”

“I think you both need to calm down,” the third voice, the closest voice, said, “This is stressful for everyone and you’re both, understandably, on edge.”

“Yeah, listen to your boyfriend, Jean-Paul.”

“Oh, shut-”

“Babe,” The voice said, warningly. Aw, they were dating, how sweet. Gray had no clue who the fuck they were.   
  


“Fine. Just handle Graham, we’ll manage the rest.”

A large hand was pushing his hair out of his face, “Graham? This mustn’t make a lot of sense to you right now, but trust me, it will. My name’s Antonio, I’m a friend of yours.”

Gray, even in his… whatever the hell this was… was pretty definite of one thing: He had never met this, whoever  _ this _ was, in his life. Perhaps his confusion showed on his face, because there was a laugh.

“Yeah, you don’t remember me, but you will! Eventually. It’s good to see you again, but, uh, I apologise for the current circumstances.”

The current circumstances… the Current Circumstances. Wait!

“Amelia...” he was surprised to find himself able to speak again, his tongue felt like cotton. 

“Amelia, is that her name?” the voice asked, gently, “She seems lovely, from the 5 seconds in which I, uh, violently attacked her. But I can’t wait to hear all about her once this is over.”

For some, strange reason, something about this felt so familiar, and Gray was strangely comforted by this person.

“I’d… like that…” He murmured. Was he even sure that he was talking? Gray didn’t know.

“Yeah? Well, we’re going to fix all of this soon, okay? I know this makes no sense to you now, but you’ll understand why this is all happening soon enough. You’ll be back with your family, soon. And we’ll keep you safe, okay?”

“No… not the biggest…”

“Fan? Oh, I know,” the voice said, “Your actual family. With us. You’ll understand.”   
  


The haze was calling Gray back, he couldn’t fight it. He leant his head back.

“Go back to sleep, now, okay? This ordeal will be over when you wake up.”   
  


What choice did he have but to comply?

***

Gray awoke, the next time, far more lucid than before. Lucid enough to realise that he wasn’t moving anymore. His tongue was dry and heavy in his mouth, and it was as if someone had replaced the space around his brain with honey. But he at least had some awareness that he had no clue what was going on. 

His muscles felt heavy, like his blood had been thickened with syrup, it was only when he flexed his hands, almost instinctively, did he realise that it was only partially because of the drug. His wrists were bound.

At least, he thought they were bound. He tried to look down and realised he couldn’t bend his neck. He was pushed back, head up to stare at the ceiling. What struck him most, however, was the familiarity of it, the strangest feeling that he had been here before. Maybe it was the allusion to the world’s weirdest dentist chair. Maybe it was the sense that he’d dreamt about this, once. Or maybe-

No. No point in justifying it. There was no way Gray could ever have been in a situation like this before. Why he felt like this was a mystery that should never have been presented, let alone solved. He had to keep his eyes shut, every time he tried to open them the fluorescent lights blinded him. There was no reason they had to be so close but to keep him from focusing on his surroundings. 

There was cool metal pressing against the back on his head. Gray noticed that very, very, suddenly.

“You’re awake!” Gray instinctively tried to turn his head to the noise, but found he couldn’t. “Crackle, I don’t think you understand how good it is to see you again, particularly after everything.”

The lights were moved, suddenly, to reveal the most bizarre woman he had ever seen. Even after every single run-in he’d had with every single VILE operative, nothing compared to what he was seeing now. She was wearing appropriated welding goggles, so he couldn’t see her eyes, but just from her smile alone it looked like she wanted to tear him limb from limb. 

Gray was aware that he wasn’t fully registering what was going on around him, but the terror the woman instilled in him was as real as it was incomprehensible.

“Well, hi,” he said, swallowing his fear down like bile, “Not to burst your bubble or anything, but as charming as this setup is, I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”

The woman laughed. It was low and controlled, nothing like he was expecting from someone with white hair and a lab coat, “Ah, same as always, Crackle, you haven’t changed a bit.”

“Okay, you know what? I can’t believe I have to ask this, but enough people seem to have gotten it confused that I need to know. Who’s Crackle? Because, no offense, but my parents love me enough to, uh, not name me  _ that. _ ”

“Well, they don’t exactly love you too much,  _ Graham.” _

Gray felt all the blood drain from his face. But he knew only too well what happened when he let his fear show. He knew what happened when he started being genuine. 

“Okay, so you  _ do _ know my name.”

“I know nearly everything about you, Crackle.”   
  


“Did we not just establish that my name isn-”

There was the faintest noise to his right, like a button being pushed, and Gray had never been in more pain in his life. 

It was as if two drills were at his temple. His throat constricted, as if it could do something to help him. But instead, he just couldn’t breathe. Instinctively, he tried to scream but all that came out was a series of forced, choked gasps, high pitched and unnatural.

Gray understood why he was bound the way he was, now. This way he couldn’t move off the chair. He couldn’t get away from the blades in his skull. That didn’t stop him from trying to fight, straining to get away from the pain. 

And just as it started, it stopped.

Gray could breathe, again.

“Wh-what… the  _ fuck… _ was that?” He knew how terror-ladened his voice sounded, almost as if he was on the verge of tears. He didn’t care. 

“Did that bring anything  _ back?”  _ The woman asked, “Do you know who I am?”

“No! No… please… we’ve never met!”

“Hm,” The woman looked confused, her lips pushing to the upper corner of her mouth. Her eyebrows were furrowed. “Perhaps another round will help?”

“No!” His voice was suddenly quite shrill, “Don’t!”

“Well, I mean, another round is inevitable, we’re going to have to keep going until we get this right, but since you asked so  _ nicely… _ ” the woman smiled at him again, “My name is Dr. Saira Bellum, and we’re about to become  _ very _ good friends. Or as close as we can to, I don’t have friends. Become very good… sexy mad scientist and loyal subordinate, things.”

The woman, Dr. Bellum, paused, thinking, and then shrugged, “Ah, close enough, you get the idea. Now, Crackle, this is going to take just a little smidge of what we in the scientific community like to refer to as ‘fucking around until we get it right.’ See, I’ve never actually had to do this the other way around before, mind-wipes are easy, mind-returns? Not so much. But I’m a curious mind, and also a genius, so there’s never been a problem I haven’t bullshitted my way through before. Now,”

“No, no, no no no, what are you doing?!”   
  


“This may twinge a little bit.”   
  


Gray did scream, this time. 

What else could he have done? There were knives, cutting through his brain, slicing through the fat and protein like it was butter, snagging his neurons before snapping them completely and they broke like guitar strings wound too tight. He felt them burst, and curl in on themselves. Acid was being pumped into the back of his head, swirling around his skull. 

The screaming was getting higher, there was sobbing in there as well. It was rising in pitch, until it was full-on crying, higher pitched than anything Gray knew he could make. Because, he suddenly realised, it wasn’t him crying. It was a baby, a baby was crying, and suddenly it was gone. There was a child in his arms. There was a familiar hand on his shoulder. The baby wasn’t crying, the baby wasn’t doing anything. She was looking up at him, curiously, and he was looking down at her the same way. He really didn’t understand this strange, little new thing in his arms. 

Juliet reached up, with her pudgy little baby arms, and Graham pulled away before she grabbed his glasses again. He didn’t want baby slobber on them, thank you very much. 

“See, neurons actually activate in bursts, and then lull,” Mum was saying. Graham was suddenly aware that his head was very sore. “That was my idea with your mind wipe. Rather than stopping the reaction altogether, I decided to pause it. It took a lot of work, but I figured out a way in the end. Now it’s only a matter of restarting the process…”

Mum’s voice was morphing, until suddenly it was someone else entirely, Dr. Bellum was talking to him, and he wasn’t in Sydney anymore. Was he ever? He looked down and he was looking into a cot. Juliet… what was wrong with Juliet? Why did her skin look like that? 

No. He didn’t want to see this. This couldn’t be real, it wasn’t. 

“Naturally, the procedure’s agonizing, but with any luck I’ll be able to think a way around that.”

There was a bang. He screamed again. Madison looked around suddenly, touching the nape of her neck.

“It looks good, stop worrying about it.”   
  


“How would you know that? You don’t know things… about hair…”

“I know things about hair! Trust me, do you know how much I have to do to get this to work?” He asked, gesturing to his own, “Five sacrifices to the blood gods, Matt, and even then it’s still not happy!”

Madison gave him a strange look, “Did you just call me Matt?” 

Gray blinked, “Yeah, sorry. Must’ve decided it suited you better.”

“Huh, I actually don’t mind it. But I don’t know!” Madison ran her hand through her newly short hair. “I’ve never had it this short before, I never really… could. Anyway, what if it looks bad, and you’re just too nice and don’t know me well enough to say anything!”

“Do you want me to be  _ completely honest _ with what I think of your hair? Like, 500 percent, completely and utterly honest with you?”

Madison looked at him, anxious and expectant. “Yes?”

“It genuinely looks worlds better. Not that your hair looked bad before, but the fringe really suits you.”

Matt smiled, nervously, her hand at her nape again. 

“Gray?” He heard Toby calling to him. Gray turned, and the back of his head burst into pain. He grabbed it, suddenly paralyzed, his muscles seizing, “Gray!”

“Toby…” he screamed, suddenly, startling even himself, “Toby, please! Please! Help me!”   
  
But Toby was turning his back on him, Toby was walking away from him, as he struggled against Carmen. Toby had seen him, completely. This is what Gray deserved, for thinking he could… this was what he deserved...

He should’ve accepted the reality sooner, should’ve seen the truth for how it was. 

Magpie wasn’t coming for him. Magpie was a VILE operative, now, thank you, Crackle, for that.

“Really, I’m glad you brought them to us. But this is what you get when you bother with friends. They’ll abandon you, Crackle, because you’re nothing to them. You’ll never be anything more. That’s your problem, my dear boy, you care so much for someone who means so little. And you think the feeling is mutual, when there is absolutely no reason for it to be. Honestly, it’s rather pathetic, but it does make you  _ so _ loyal. To a fault, even.” 

“Help me!”

“Toby, where are you?”

Toby was sitting on the end of his bed. Graham was trying to bandage his hands.

“Call your dad, once I’m done. Tell him you’re not going back.”

Toby looked up at him, “Are you sure you’re okay with me staying here? Because it’s fine if you’re not, I mean, I’m sure I ha-”   
  


“I wouldn’t have said yes if I wasn’t,” Graham finished with the bandages, and put them back in the first-aid kit. “Now, are you sure you’re okay?” Because Toby looked like he was about to cry, but when didn’t he? Toby always looked like he was on the edge of tears.

“I…” Toby tried to speak, but trailed off. His lip was trembling.

“Okay, okay, come here.” 

Toby hugged him suddenly, wrapping his arms tightly around him. 

“You good?” Graham asked, gently.

“You’re warm,” Came the muffled response.

A knocking at the door woke him up. Toby blinked blearily in its direction. 

“Who is it?” he asked, sleep-addled. 

“I’m going to find out,” Graham replied, standing up from his spot on the floor. He left his room, the sleek floors of the hallway cold against his feet. It’s nighttime, and beside him, Jean-Paul was smiling, conspiratorially.

“Come on, hurry up, Gray!” he whispered. 

“I am going as fast as I can, mate, do you want us to get caught?”   
  


“No, I want Cleo’s champagne, and I am going to get it. With you by my side or without.”

_ “We _ are going to get it. This is a shared champagne theft, we’re all getting some, here.”

“Communist.” 

“There’s communism, Jean-Paul, then there’s 50 grand champagne. I’ve had enough goon in my life to know when I want to get my hands on the good stuff.”

Jean-Paul laughed. Gray had had enough of him judging his alcohol tastes, at least  _ he _ didn’t have a second-hand nicotine addiction from  _ his  _ parties. So what if he could identify every type and brand of vodka cruiser by taste? That was nobody else’s business but his own.

The pair turned a corner. Someone was giggling at the other end of it. Gray hurried after it.

“Black Sheep, I swear to whichever gods!” The giggling started up again, but grew more distant. He moved faster, she was just messing with him, now, he spent  _ hours  _ on that, “Give it back!”

“Get it yourself!” She replied, “If you can!”

And  _ that  _ was a challenge Gray was all too willing to accept. 

“Oh, you wait and see, mate!” He broke into a full run, weaving through the hallways, chasing after Black Sheep’s laughter. Gray was outside, now, and saw her, she was heading down to the dock.

She was playing right into his hands. Black Sheep knew this place back to front, she was intentionally running herself into a corner. What for?

“Bad move, Black Sheep, you’re in for it now,” he murmured, and took off after her.

He felt the impact of the wooden boards beneath his feet as he charged towards the end of it. Black Sheep turned at the noise, and he stopped, suddenly.

No…

Wait…

This can’t be right. 

What was this?

“Carmen!?” He realised how agonised it sounded, what would he give for this to just stop?! Just a minute, please, that’s all he’s asking! Just give him one moment to breathe again, let his entire brain be torn to shreds, just, please,  _ please, _ respite. Any respite!

“Carmen?” Bellum asked, “Oh, right! Sandiego,  _ that  _ Carmen, I forgot you had  _ ingratiated _ yourself with her. You never change! Always such a good little sycophant, aren’t you, my dear? If only you knew what she’d done to you, Crackle, would you be so loyal?”   
  


“Carmen! Carmen!” He doesn’t know why he’s calling out for her, he doesn’t see the point. She’s not coming, nobody is, this is his fight alone, it always has been. This was what he deserved. He should never have left the house, he should never have betrayed her, this is his own fault, this is what he deserves. 

“She’s the reason this is happening to you, Crackle,” Bellum leant down, he felt her breath on his ear, and he tries to pull away. He fails. It feels like vermin, crawling up his cheek. “This is what she wants. She was the one who got your memories wiped in the first place. She knew  _ exactly _ what she was doing.”

He doesn’t know what Bellum means. Did Carmen plan this? Did she goad him into storming out so that he could end up in this mess? No, she wouldn’t, she would never, he trusted her, she would never betray him, he knew that.

She would never.

She would always be trustworthy.

“No… no! I don’t believe you, I-”

She would tell him where his friends were, if she knew. She would tell him they had joined VILE.

Wouldn’t she?   
  


“Oh, you’re so sure! You’ve always been so sweet, so trusting,” Bellum was laughing again, it was low and like an ocean tide at night but no sound had ever been so grating, so horrifying to hear. “If she cares as much about you as you do her, then why hasn’t she saved you, yet? Why won’t she?” 

Gray tried to stay silent, but another scream was wrought out of him. It only made Bellum laugh harder, “Accept it, Crackle, you mean nothing to her!” She said, as if it was the funniest joke she’d ever heard, “That’s why she did what she did, dear boy, she left you because you’re nothing to her. Remember that.”

It was the only thing Gray could remember, at this point. What else was there to know? If he just accepted it, would all this be over? Perhaps this was it, perhaps this was wh the was here, in this agony. 

“Gray! Gray!” 

Perhaps it was to make sure he didn’t forget.    
  


There was pounding, there was screaming. but Gray was more interested in Matt calling him. Toby, next to him, awoke with a jolt. 

“What was that?” He asked.

“Nearly hit something, sorry,” Graham told him, his own heart in his throat, but staying calm. “Go back to sleep.”

Graham brought the car back to a normal speed. Then, suddenly, there was screaming, high pitched, horrible screaming. 

“Gray! Please! Leave him alone, I’m begging you!”   
  


Alex was nothing more than a bloody mess on the beer sodden wet grass, and Graham’s knuckles were stinging with the sensation of torn skin. He looked up, at the crowd that had surrounded them, and immediately found Toby. He was, thank God, unharmed, but shaken. 

Toby reached out a hand, Gray took it.

“You have no clue how good it is to see you again,” he said. Toby looked better than Gray had ever seen him. And taller, definitely taller. What the hell happened after Gray graduated? 

Gray wishes he knew. 

“Same goes here,” Toby replied, “I always wondered where you went. There was so much I wanted to tell you,” he glances down, as they walk up the steps of the Opera House. It’s hot and sunny and February, and Gray is basking in the heat.    
  


“Like what?” He asked.

Toby paused, “I… actually don’t know.” he said, “I think, I wanted you to see me again, honestly. I think I wanted to make you proud.”

Him? Of all people to want to make proud,  _ him? _ Gray can’t say he minds it.    
  


“I was always proud of you. Genuinely,” Toby smiles, and even though he looks dramatically different it’s still so uniquely, undeniably, his. 

“I know, I know, but… I don’t know. Sorry, this probably isn’t making a lot of sense to you,” Toby laughs a little, and Gray smiled back at him.

“Well, if it’s anything, maybe you can return the favour.” 

“How?”   
  


“Help me!” He sobbed, “Toby, help me! Matt, please,  _ anyone, _ just,  _ please! _ Toby… please... _ ” _

“You don’t seem to get it, Crackle,” Bellum said, irritated, “He’s not here for you. He doesn’t care. Your utilitarian value is wasted, you’re as good as dead. I don’t know what he’s trying to do, but it’s getting on my nerves.”

“No! No, Stop! He… they… they care about me! They’ll help me, just-” he screamed, again. 

“Help you? If Magpie - if  _ Toby _ \- wanted to help you, why did he tell us your location? Why did he make it so  _ easy  _ for us to come and get you?”

“What?” No, Toby wouldn’t, he  _ wouldn’t,  _ he wouldn’t be so vindictive, he may hate Gray but he would never,  _ never, _ push it so far as to… would he?”

“Yup! Your old classmates only found you on Magpie’s information! He was the one who told us you were with the lovely Carmen, he told us that you would be emotionally vulnerable that night, that you would most likely be alone. All we had to do was track you from there and pick you up. Really, he was all too happy to sell you out!”

“No… no! He wouldn’t!”

“Oh? Then who else could it have been? Did you meet anyone else on that mission?”   
  


No… no… please! The screaming and the pounding was louder. Gray tried to pull away from it but it was inescapable.

“Oh, I’ve had enough of those two!” Bellum snapped, suddenly.

There were footsteps, and suddenly the ground was shaking. Gray nearly lost his balance. Please. He’s begging her. Please. Just don’t leave him. Just come back. He knows he messed up but please, was he really worth so little to her?   
  


But Gray was already falling back into the seat behind him. He wasn’t enough, he was never enough. 

And Carmen was standing over him. The pain ramped up another notch, and he screamed through a throat that was burning. 

“Sandiego!” Bellum cried.

And in a blur, she was gone. 

“Gray!” Matt was calling for him again. But he didn’t see the point in trying to reach her. Amelia sat on the couch in his apartment, staring him down. He could trust her. He knew that. She was probably the only person he could.

Someone was grabbing him, someone was yelling. 

“Let him go!” He didn’t know who’d spoken for him, but Lorikeet wasn’t putting the knife down. Zack reached for him, and his wrist came free. Gray grabbed his hand like it was a lifeline (perhaps, instinctively, he realised that it  _ was _ ). 

“Enough!” Bellum snapped, and suddenly there was the unmistakable sound of a weapon being charged up. 

“No!” Zack cried. 

“Gray!!”

But then there was a blast, and it felt like it was enough to knock what was left of his brain out, let it drip out of his ear. He flew to the side, and the pressure around his head came loose. All he could register was the ringing in his ears, the fact that he had landed hard on something, an ugly red colour flashed from the back of his head, clouding his vision.

The next thing he realised was that he was finally at peace. He’d done what he’d had to do. It was all over. He’d accepted it. He’d faced the truth. 

He saw Carmen. He saw Zack and Ivy. He saw Shadowsan. They were coming towards him. They were coming for him…

Coming for him…

Coming for…

They were coming…

They were here…

They  _ are _ here... 

For him…

for  him...


	48. Gray, Pseudo-Amnesiac

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gray wakes up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man writing the scene last chapter with El Topo and then immediately following it with the scene with Bellum was an Experience.
> 
> Anyway, here it is!!! The last chapter! One day before Season 3! I made the deadline, guys! But I also pulled an all-nighter to do it, so I am knackered and barely lucid. Yay!!!!!!!!!!

Gray didn’t realise that he’d been asleep until he was staring up at the pale wood ceiling.

It would’ve been about midday, judging by the light, and Gray, like so many times before, didn’t know where he was. 

But, unlike so many times before, recognition came flooding in, warm and forceful and the exact shade of orange of sunrise light through leaves. 

He was in his bedroom, he was back at the house. He was safe. It was all over. Gray felt, quite suddenly, weightless. It was as if his ribs had suddenly vanished, disappeared, and suddenly it was just his lungs taking flight in his chest. It was as if he wasn’t there at all.

A weight tugged at his bedsheets, gently reminding him that he wasn’t about to start challenging gravity. He looked, down, straining his neck, to see a small, curled up, dark-skinned form, leaning against the side of his bed.

He didn’t know why he was surprised, but the biggest shock was why she didn’t just use the chair.

“Amelia?” He asked, hoarsely, and immediately winced, his throat was burning. God, he had  _ shredded _ it. Amelia jumped, turning around to look up at him. There were deep, dark shadows under her eyes, and there was a certain emaciated look about her, as if she’d been running on fumes for several days.

“Gray!” She cried, and suddenly Gray was taking the weight of Amelia’s entire body, and as worn in as she might be, she could still grip him with enough force to choke him. Her body shook with sobs as she pressed tightly into him.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay… it’s okay, I’m here, I’m here now,” he murmured, rubbing her back soothingly. “It’s okay… it’s over now.”

“I was so…  _ scared,”  _ Amelia sobbed, “I-I woke up and you were  _ gone  _ and I was alone and… and… I called Carmen and they said it was  _ VILE  _ and they wouldn’t let me on the mission because I was injured and I thought you  _ died,  _ I was terrified and- and- and-” Amelia was tripping over her words, and she let out a very stuttery breath, “I’m starting to realise how  _ stupid _ and selfish all this sounds after  _ everything  _ you’ve probably just-”

“Woah, hey, no, don’t talk like that,” Gray pulled her up to look her in the eye. “You’ve been through the wringer, Meels.”

Amelia laughed, tearfully. “I thought I told you not to call me that.”   
  
“Sorry, forgot.” Gray pulled her close, again. They stayed like that, Gray wasn’t quite sure if either of them wanted to let go, so they stayed like that for a while, delaying the inevitable. It was only when Amelia’s breathing settled that he broke the silence.

“How long have I been out?” He asked, his voice was still hoarse. Amelia made a small noise, thinking about it.

“Carmen brought you back about... midnight, I think. Around midnight last night,” she said, her voice muffled.

“Hm… okay. Now,” he sat up, and Amelia followed him, blinking in surprise. “Have you slept at all since I’ve been gone?”

“Well… yes… but more accurately… kinda no…”

Gray wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “You know what I’m about to tell you.”

“But…”

“Go. Sleep,” Amelia bit her lip, he knew what was worrying her. “I’ll be here when you wake up, Amelia. I promise.” 

He patted Amelia’s cheek, gently. She looked exhausted, and must have felt it, because she got up with little argument.

“Just, I have to tell Carmen you’re awake, first,” she said, turning back to him at his door. “I promised her I would.”

Gray nodded as she left. The thought of seeing Carmen made him uneasy. He didn’t know what he was going to say to her, what could he say, after all that? They hadn’t spoken a word since he slapped her (there was contextual justification, sure, but even so), he wished he could say that things had quieted down since then, that they’d had space to breathe, and calm down. 

But they hadn’t, and now Gray has a lot to apologise for. 

Well, he’d have a lot to apologise for even if he hadn’t been kidnapped and tortured. He should really have never left the house. He should’ve just held his tongue. Kept his emotions in check. 

Really, this was what he deser-

A glass was being pressed into his hands. Gray looked up. Carmen was pulling a chair up to his bedside. 

“It’s water,” she said, by way of greeting. 

“I can see that.” Gray took a sip, and suddenly nothing in the world had ever tasted better. The relief of it was enough to make him dizzy.

“Thanks,” he set the now empty glass down on the bedside table. His throat felt marginally better. 

“I thought you needed it,” Carmen said, “Your throat must be sore.”

“It is.”   
  


“Well, I won’t keep you talking too long, you were, uh, screaming, a lot, and it sounded really painful…” Carmen trailed off, looking a little haunted, “I just needed to talk to you.”

“Okay.”

“What do you remember?” Carmen asked, searching his face for any response. Gray blinked, what did he remember? He remembered coming back from Korea, he remembered the fight with Carmen, he remembered the needle in his neck, he remembered Bellum, but everything after that was just a haze. Every time he tried to remember anything, he just ended up picking up vague flashes of conversation, or just remembering something else. 

Oh, and the pain. That was the only thing he could pinpoint clearly.

But Gray needed to fix things with Carmen, and if he didn’t do it now, it would drive him insane.

“I’m sorry,” he said, suddenly. Carmen blinked. “I’m sorry about hitting you, I overreacted and was  _ way _ out of line,” he didn’t know how to apologise in a way that didn’t dig him deeper into his own grave. But how does he apologise for something like this? He’s never had to do it before, he’s never needed to. He’s always been in control. “I… lost control of my anger and I swear it will never happen again and I- why are you laughing?”   
  


It didn’t sound particularly mirthful, but it didn’t sound miserable, either. It was almost… surprised?

“Gray…” Carmen said, still laughing at him, “After  _ everything _ that’s just happened, you want to apologise for  _ that?” _

“It’s worth apologising for.”

“And it doesn’t matter now. I’d almost forgotten it even happened,” Carmen put a hand on his shoulder. “Just, if you ever do it again I’ll kick your ass so hard you’ll get amnesia twice over, okay?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” He smiled back at her.

“Speaking of,” Carmen’s analytical stare was back. “Can you remember anything?”

“About last night?” He asked.

“In general.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You mean, like, have I recovered anything?” 

Carmen nodded. Gray thought about it, but remembering something he’d forgotten, something specifically lost, was difficult. How could he know they were there until they declared themselves to him?   
  


Remember when he was nineteen. That’s where he decided to start. What happened when he was nineteen? He remembered his birthday. The party was a haze. He’d hated it. Then… he’d stopped going to dance classes. Someone approaching him outside the Opera House, when the light was painting the shifting, inky water, and he was aching with rage. Then, a girl with short brown hair, and she was-

A sharp, shocking, pain shot through his temples.

“Ow, fuck,  _ ow!” _

“Are you okay? What happened?” Carmen asked, as Gray pulled away, touching his head.

“I’m fine, I’m- fine. But I think that’s gonna be a - uh -  _ no _ on the memory thing.”

Carmen knit her brows, concerned, but there was the smallest hint of something else in there. The pain slowly faded away. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine…” he sighed in relief, “But what happened in Bellum’s lab? I don’t remember a lot of it.”

Carmen suddenly had a lot of trouble meeting his gaze. “After Amelia followed you out, we didn’t hear a word from either of you,” she started, slowly, “I… I thought that the two of you were just talking it out, and didn’t worry too much. It was only when Amelia called in a panic, around 5am in the morning, did I ever even consider that something had gone wrong.”

“What then?”

“Then Player went into overdrive trying to track you down, and eventually we were able to find you but… it took hours, and getting there was another thing altogether. And then we had to fight through Tigress, El Topo and Le Chevre just to get to the lab. I… don’t actually know how long you were in there for.”

“What was Bellum even trying to do?” He wasn’t entirely sure if he was asking Carmen or just the world in general, but Carmen was the one who had all the answers, and she was the one he could turn to.

“She was trying to experiment on you,” Carmen replied, “Whether for some particular reason, or because you were just  _ there,  _ I don’t know. But you  _ were _ there, and she got her hands on you, so that’s that, I suppose…” She trailed off, looking down at her hands. 

“Carmen, is everything alright?”   
  


“Yes, yeah, it’s fine, I’m fine,” Carmen shook her head slightly, as if trying to bring herself back down to earth. Her hands rose, slightly, placatingly, to Gray or to herself, he didn’t know. 

“Are you sure?” He asked, gently, “Because, and I mean this in the kindest way possible, you don’t look it.”

“Maybe  _ that’s _ because none of this would’ve happened had I not screwed up so  _ astronomically,”  _ Carmen snapped, suddenly. 

Gray stared at her, a little stunned by her outburst. What exactly was he supposed to say to that?

“Sorry,” Carmen mumbled, eventually.

“No, no, it’s fine. Why do you think this is your fault?”

“Because it is! I mean, well, no, that’s not entirely fair…” Carmen wrung her hands together. “But this only happened because you left, and the only reason you left was because we had an argument and,  _ yes,  _ my anger was justified - and I know that! - but I didn’t handle the situation well and… and… I made a mistake, Gray. I said something that I shouldn’t have said because I decided that I wanted to be cruel and vindictive. That’s how this whole thing started. That’s how VILE got their hands on you. My mistake.”   
  


“Yeah,” Gray replied, “but  _ I  _ made the mistake of leaving. Not you, you didn’t push me out that door, me. I preceded that by making the mistake of literally hitting you across the face, and preceded  _ that _ by ignoring your authority and going to Seoul in the first place. If we’re judging fault by the number of mistakes made, I still take the cake, here.”   
  


But Carmen just shoved her face into her hands. “I  _ know _ that! I  _ know _ that this isn’t my fault! Everyone makes mistakes, that’s a part of living... But whenever I do it ends up nearly ruining everything, and people get hurt,  _ I  _ get hurt. I can never just bounce back from them because they always come back to haunt me. Why is that?” Carmen demanded, “Why can I only fail so stupendously?”

“Well…” Gray starts, because he’s walking unknown territory here. Really, Matt would be so much better for this sort of thing, even if thinking about her hurts. “I don’t know what to say to that. Matt was the emotionally intelligent one of us.”

Carmen chuckled, softly. “Well, thanks for the attempt, Gray.”

The sound of rain outside the window startled him. He turned.

“Sunshower,” he commented, “that was sudden.”

“It was.”

He turned back to Carmen. “So, what now?”.

“Well, Matt and Toby are with VILE now, so you know where they are, I guess,” Carmen said, “So… from now on, it’s your call.”

“Did you see them, at all?” Gray asked, “When you were rescuing me, I thought, for a moment, that they were there, but I thought a lot of stuff was going on there that couldn’t have made sense, so…”

Carmen shook her head, “I didn’t see them. But, Gray, how are you handling that? Them being with VILE. I know it’s not easy.”

It hurt to think about it. But they had both made their decision. It was time Gray accepted it. 

He only hoped they would accept his. 

“They betrayed me. That hurts. And I’m going to have to deal with that. But I’ll pull through. And I’ll take them down.”

Carmen nodded. “I know what it feels like. You will. Everything’ll be okay. But… now we have to decide where you go now.”

“What do you mean?” Gray thought he’d just made his intentions quite clear.    
  


“I mean,” Carmen started, slowly, picking her way through what she wanted to actually say, “You’ve gotten what you came here for. And you’ve been through a major ordeal. I can’t say I understand what you’re going through, and I’m here for you either way, but I won’t hold it against you… if you decide to go home.”

“Home?” The notion had never even come to him before. Then again, he woke up less than half an hour ago, “Wait, like back to Sydney?”

“It’d probably be safer for you there,” Carmen said, “And you wouldn’t have to have another run in with your friends. It might be easier for you, that way.”   
  


“I wouldn’t exactly call them my friends, anymore,” Gray replied, “What about Amelia?”

“She’ll be allowed to stay, regardless of your decision.”

“And what about you?”

Carmen looked up at him, confused. “Me?”

“What do you want me to do? Come on, I trust your judgement as much as my own.” It’s a strange thing to say, particularly from him. 

Most particularly because it’s true. 

“Going back to Australia would be the safer option,” Carmen began, “From a logical perspective. If you keep your head down and stay out of trouble, VILE, hopefully, has no reason to target you anymore. With any luck, they’ll give up on you.”

“I didn’t ask for a logical perspective, Carmen,” Gray sat up a little straighter. “I asked for yours.”

Carmen’s eyes widened slightly. “Mine? I just told you.”

“Is that what you genuinely think, or is that you trying to be the responsible one?”

“I… I...” Carmen looked down at the floor. “I want you to stay,” she said, suddenly, “I know it’s stupid, and dangerous, and an all around  _ terrible _ idea, and it’s impossible to justify outside of my own personal wishes getting in the way... but I want you to stay.”

Gray put his hand on her upper arm. “Then that’s what I’ll do. I trust you.”

“Just like that?” Carmen asked, “Just because I told you to? You’re not even gonna think about it?”

“To be absolutely honest, there was never really a question of it. I just wanted to make sure you were on board with it.”

“I guess that’s settled then,” Carmen smiled at him. “I’ll let you get some rest,” she said, beginning to stand up.

“Wait, Carmen, one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

Gray held his arms out. “C’mere.”

The request felt familiar. Almost  _ too _ familiar. Particularly when Carmen complied. Recognition was on the outskirts of his known memory, and when he tried to justify it all he got was pain. 

But he held her anyway.

***

Toby wished he could hold her. But there was no way he could even touch her here, not that she would ever let him. Matt hadn’t let him touch her since he had to carry her out. She hadn’t let a single person touch her since then. 

She stood beside him, arms behind her back, just like his were, but where he was looking straight ahead, she was looking down. Her hair was covering her face, from where Toby was standing, Matt was unreadable. But he could see the tension she held herself with, he could see the slight tremors that went through her as the Faculty decided their fate. 

“I thought we agreed they’d been punished enough,” Cleo argued, “Roundabout, you said so yourself, why the change of heart?”

“It’s not a change of heart, per se, it’s a simple, openness, to other possibilities,” Roundabout smiled at her.

“Screw the new possibilities, my experiment was  _ ruined!” _ Bellum snapped, irate.

“My good doctor,” Maelstrom began, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I thought we had already established that your  _ failure _ was due to your oversights as a scientist, and not due to the actions of two barely named recruits. That is not what we are here to discuss.”

“And if I may add,” Brunt interjected, “Should Magpie and Giselle face punishment, shouldn’t the rest of their classmates? It’s clear they were at least complicit.” 

No, please, no, Toby begs it to the universe, even as he stands there, struggling to hold himself together. Please, don’t let the others have to bear the weight of this, Toby fears his spine’s near-broken already. But he stayed silent, blinking the tears away, hiding them beneath his mask. It’s a perfect disguise, Toby knew it. He knew it because it’s what Gray would do. The thought made the pain well up yet again, that is all this past week has been, fighting it, keeping it away. 

“We changed their training to focus on interpersonal connections for a reason,” Cleo said, clearly irritated, “We wanted loyalty, we  _ got _ loyalty. It’s completely audacious to punish them for responding well to their training.”   
  


Bellum glowered at her, but stayed silent, the clearest indication of assent she could give. 

“Well, I think that settles it,” Roundabout turned to them, “We can put an end to this unfortunate incident. Leave the situation in our dear doctor’s lab, and everything that succeeded it, in the past. As long as Magpie and Giselle are willing to accept responsibility for their actions, I don’t see why we need to punish them further. Assuming, of course” he smiled at them, an unwelcoming thing. “They do see themselves as responsible, and are unafraid to say so.”

Toby suddenly became acutely aware of what Roundabout was trying to do. He was trying to get them to take the blame, this was their punishment. Roundabout was ensuring they were kept in check without ever having to raise a finger against them. Making them punish themselves, whilst making it look like he wasn’t doing anything at all. 

And Toby knew that he couldn’t let Roundabout do that. The idea crept forward again, from the very worst parts of him, which held and dictated it with tentacline control. Before now, he would’ve thought about what he was planning to do, would’ve tested it against every worst outcome. But before now, he had his best friend, the context has changed, Toby’s had enough of playing this part. 

He’d never known he’d had this in him, but the image of Sandiego’s head on a stake had drawn it out, forged it in fire and heartstring, and now it was time to wield the final weapon. 

“If I might interject,” he took a step forward, aware of how the Faculty’s eyes all turned to him, of how his shoes clicked on the floor.

“Magpie,” Brunt acknowledged him, “You have something to add?”

“Less something to add, and more of a proposition to make,” Toby realised, in the haze of his grief and rage, that it had stopped the anxiety from seeping in. He revelled, suddenly, in the control he held over them. Was this how his mother felt, controlling her family? Toby had spent his life terrified he would end up like her. Now, he knew he never would. He would become something greater, something entirely different. All of it for the eventual day where he could spit on her grave. 

“See, you all have some idea, from our training and our testing, the value of loyalty, to a cause, but most importantly, to each other,” his voice is cool, but not calculating. Devoid, as if all emotion has been sapped from it, because it has. Toby had nothing left to give. 

“So I wouldn’t be incorrect in suggesting that you would all be cognizant of how that same loyalty could be weaponised, would I?”

“Get to the point, Magpie, I don’t like beating around the bush,” Brunt huffed. Toby nodded.

“Of course, Coach. Let me put it simply. You have a problem with one Carmen Sandiego. You’ve tried everything, with no success. I suggest, why not implement people for whom this has already made personal?”

“You think we haven’t tried that already?” Bellum asked, “You are not the only ones here with a personal connection to Carmen Sandiego.”

“Yes, but has there been any with  _ such _ a reason for a vendetta?”

“You’re suggesting that you and Giselle go after Miss. Sandiego?” Maelstrom asked, resting his chin on interlocked fingers. “Interesting. And what makes you think you have the gall?”

“She killed our best friend,” It was spoken with a trembling, boiling, fury, and Toby turned to look at Matt, surprised. “I’ll fucking show you  _ gall.” _

Matt terrified him, now. But right at this moment that was useful. He only hoped this new, grief-stricken version of her haunted the Faculty like it did Toby. Anyway, he couldn’t show fear, not here and not now. He knew what happened if he faltered, even for just a second. 

“Case in point,” Toby turned back to the Faculty. “What you are being offered are your best odds. When we’re face to face with her, we won’t hesitate for a second.”

Roundabout was analysing him, expression unknowable but ominous. “Magpie has a point. I believe that this may be an effective venture.”

“Uh, Roundabout, didn’t we have a certain conversation that this might serve as a conflict of interest to?” Bellum asked.    
  


“Unless you would like to reveal the nature of this conversation to the rest of the Faculty, Doctor, no, we did not.”

“Oh, uh… right. Of course, we did not,” Bellum blanched underneath the attention of her colleagues. “But I still don’t support this idea. There are too many risks involved.”

“Me neither,” Countess Cleo added, “How will this affect missions? I need my two newest operatives, and this will not be an overnight process”

“We can still continue missions as normal. It will take awhile before we eventually make a move,” Toby explained, but Cleo didn’t look convinced.

“A vengeance mission sounds like a good idea, in hindsight,” Brunt interjected, “Normally, I’m all for it. But you can’t allow this to consume you. Your classmates still need you by their side.”

“I believe eliminating our biggest enemy is more important than  _ team morale, _ Coach,” Maelstrom said, “What do we have to lose? I say we call a vote. All in favour?”

He immediately raised his hand, Roundabout following. But Cleo and Bellum stayed firmly unmoving, staring at them with determined resolution. Toby’s breath caught in his throat. Come on, just one more person. He needed this, he didn’t know what he’d do without this.

“Ah, what the hell,” Brunt said, finally.

And she raised her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, last September: This'll just be something quick to rectify some bad character writing, maybe 20k words at most? Just a quick little thing, nothing major  
Me, this Septemeber, looking at the final word count: ah.
> 
> But seriously, holy fuck! We did it! We're here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 
> 
> !!!
> 
> I'd like to take a moment to thank every single person who followed me on this batshit nightmare. Writing this was amazing, but your comments and kudos made it even better! I'm gonna take a break and study for the most important exams of my schooling career, but in the meantime I will be making changes and editing this, so stay tuned!
> 
> Also, I may or may not have a Tumblr for this! It has exactly one (1) work on it but I may add more! URL's luciformia
> 
> It's 5:14 am here, so I'm gonna get some sleep now. Again, thank you all so much for sticking with me through the worst of this, and I'll see you on the flipside!


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